


Adoption: Sidestories

by Memory25



Series: Adoption [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Chibi!Kyoya, How to train a Mafia Boss, Izumi is a BAMF mom!, Kyoya will bite everything to death, Oops no swearing!, The puppy is chewing everything again, Tsuna do you practice your Hie?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 07:37:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 30,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8789296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Memory25/pseuds/Memory25
Summary: This is the companion/drabble partner to my fic Adoption, which is an OC-insert into the world of KHR into the Hibari family. Fun and misery and fighting under the sun! Read Adoption first though!





	1. Izumi doesn't like Tsuna

Izumi doesn't really know what to think of Sawada Tsunayoshi.

The boy is small and scrawny and weak in the way Kyoya never is. He's a sniveling wreck the first time she meets him in Namimori Elementary, picking up her ward from school as he bumps into her covered in leaves and mud and bruises.

She's seen and met her fair share of people. The bullies and the bullied, the successful and the failing. She knows how to tell the losers from the winners, the ones with spark and something worth knowing, and the ones without. It's not a nice comparison, but again, she isn't nice. It's the truth of the world right there, and she describes it the way she sees it.

Sawada Tsunayoshi is a loser.

She can tell it from the curve of his spine, the way it hunches into itself. She can see it from his eyes, the way they stare hopelessly and tearfully and hurt. She can hear it from his whimpers, his stuttered apologies, feel it from the way he flinched on impact.

It's saddening, and she feels sorry for him, but she also wants to cringe away in disgust.

He isn't blind either. They call him dame-Tsuna but he isn't stupid. His big brown doe-eyes droop in a way that a boy should be ashamed of.

There is yelling and a band of boys thunder onto the scene with gleeful faces that twist into ugly malice when they see her. They are obviously unhappy that their fun is ruined.

They're many and rowdy, but she's older and fierce. She stares pointedly and they slink away grumbling.

Tsunayoshi sniffs, the sound loud in the ensuing silence. He mumbles his thanks, but her cool look unnerves him and his eyes slide away. He stands stiffly, uncertain and apprehensive. It wouldn't be an impossibility that he has heard of her, with the situations she has stirred up in town. She maintains her scrutiny.

Kyoya is young and tall and brave. He stands up to those he thinks are wrong and fights for what he believes in (even if it isn't always right).

Sawada Tsunayoshi is young and small and jumpy. He shrieks when hit, cries easily, and never fights back.

She doesn't let her eyes soften. Doesn't offer a smile or comfort. This isn't the first time someone has found the boy crying and hurt. Namimori is not without its tender hearts with gentle words and kindness for a bullied child. She's seen them pick him up and dust him off, voices coaxing and encouraging and sweet. She's seen candy and cookies and Ultraman Band-Aids.

Her boy is a winner, while this one is a loser.

It's a pity, she wishes all the children could win. She isn't nice, but children are an exception. _Will_ always be an exception.

Sawada Tsunayoshi _is_ pathetic, but he is still a child. And so, Izumi will make the exception.

But for all that children are the exception, Izumi is unable to be nice. She does not reach out to this boy, does not try to pick him up or dust him off or feed him sweets. She doesn't believe in false hope, doesn't see the point in gestures with no useful consequence. She might help the boy this time, but it will not prevent the next. She doesn't believe in comfort that is not permanent, does not see the use in _just_ words.

She will not lie to any child. The world is a cruel place for those who cannot find their niche.

Perhaps in another world, she is, while not nice, able to be _kind._ She would pick him up and dust him off and teach him how to _win_.

But she has her hands full with another infinitely more precious than he, and for all that her heart hurts, she will make the same choice over and over again.

But there is also no point in releasing the sharp words that seethe under her breast. Barbs prod at one's self-esteem and spurs one to improve. There is nothing left to spur in Sawada Tsunayoshi, and so prodding would simply be unkind.

She's glad her boy is a winner. Glad he was already one when she got him, glad she has managed to keep him that way. She wants to pour scorn on Sawada Nana and whoever her husband is for not doing anything to fix this. Fix _him._

There are winners and there are losers. There are born fighters and born intellectuals and born artists but there are _no born losers._

Sawada Tsunayoshi is young and small and jumpy and pathetic, but he is a child and children are the exception. Sawada Tsunayoshi has barely seen the _start_ to his life and his eyes are already beginning to dull with self-blame and helplessness.

She wonders how much longer he will keep the pity of those women before they tire of picking him up and dusting him off and fixing his scratches. Wonders when he will be considered big enough to take care of himself and the sympathy runs out. Wonders which one will come first.

He stumbles around her when the moment stretches awkwardly. Tries to edge away, sniveling and limping and cowering. She doesn't step aside, but turns to watch him go.

She wonders if he'll keep sniveling, limping and cowering when he's old.

Izumi can tell the winners from the losers. She sees the confident, the brave, the bright and the strong. The ones with spark and something worth knowing.

And the ones who've lost it.


	2. Shopping Teahouse Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter from prompts given by a reader from FF~

Shopping.

Kyoya has never been a fan of shopping.

Actually, neither has Izumi.

They're both of the firm belief that shopping sucks your soul and money and leaves you a dry, empty husk of greed. And shopping malls are the worst. They bombard you from all sides with things you don't actually need or want but which you will be persuaded to get anyway.

Izumi is rather ashamed that she is usually the one who gets persuaded. She points out that most of what she buys is for Kyoya, but caves when _he_ points out that most are completely unnecessary.

Kyoya is loath to admit that he has stood with his face smooshed (Izumi's words, not his) against a display of hamsters in a pet shop and that he had to be bodily hauled away. He blames Izumi for nurturing his affection for small, furry creatures but leaving him unable to keep a pet.

Kyoya agreed to retract some blame because it isn't Izumi's fault for having an allergy that has so-far gone unnoticed.

But he is still blaming her for causing his loss of composure. And taking pictures when she should have stopped him.

He is going to _destroy_ that camera one day.

So shopping is agreed to be the bane of Hibari existence, but in the end it is for naught as they still end up in Namimori's shopping district for the Summer Festival.

Izumi has since taught Kyoya the rule of futile resistances. Kyoya has accepted the rule because she explained that it wasn't something to defeat. You shouldn't reject yourself, even if they were parts you didn't like. Instead, you should strive for control. Besides, they still avoid the district on normal days, so it's not so much giving in as making an exception.

Speaking of control, Kyoya grabs Izumi's hand and leads her away from the stalls she is meandering towards. They are here because she insisted that he needs to participate in the activities and meet other people. That isn't a very good reason but he is here anyway because he needs to patrol in case it gets rowdy _and_ watch her due to the Summer Festival Problem.

Izumi has dressed up in a very becoming gray yukata printed with iris flowers.

His guardian is a very pretty woman, with delicate, feminine features that look even more attractive when artfully framed with her pinned, raven locks. She is so pretty that she is making him think in prose and that is very troubling because she is making other boys think in prose as well. And it is not even actually intellectually stimulating because those boys are _actually_ thinking of approaching her with Kyoya _right there._

And they're _actually acting on those thoughts_ now.

He makes short work of those upstarts and gains a measure of satisfaction at their pained groans. There is now a wide berth between the crowd and him. Good. Maybe now they will learn to leave what is above their station alone. He turns back to his guardian and—

— _where is she?!_

He spots his wayward cousin at a Takoyaki stand and hastily makes his way over to glare at the leering group of teenage boys hovering behind her. He isn't sure how they think in prose with such looks on their faces, but obviously it isn't _good_ prose like he does so they can be excused. But thinking prose _about_ his guardian isn't going to be allowed to pass, and so he bites them to death for it.

Watching his guardian is more work than he expected, even if he already knew that she was very pretty. There seems to be an _abundance_ of pathetic teenage boys who have nothing better to do than get in their way. He makes sure to remain close by, aided by the fact that Izumi is trying not to lose him in the crowd, and shoot glares at those brave enough to approach. The earlier demonstration seems to have been effective at keeping the crowd at bay, and so there is little incident as they make their way through the street to the beach.

There's a teahouse beside the beach which professes a clear view of the fireworks display, but it's filled to the brim with people and so they avoid it.

They stroll along the beach a little more and wait for the sun to set, Izumi picking up small trinkets and sharing a popsicle with him. He didn't know that the reason why popsicles had two sticks was because you split it down the middle to share with someone. Wasn't it strange to assume that you had someone to share with?

But it's cool against his tongue in the hot summer heat, and he doesn't mind sharing with Izumi, now or in the future, so he supposes it is not his concern how popsicles are shaped.

They're reaching the end of their stroll when they see the circle.

It's a neat circle. The boy-men are spaced out so that there is enough space to draw back their arms and legs. It's a neat circle that is neatly spaced and with well-trapped prey neatly in the centre. It's a neat circle of experienced tormentors and an experienced tormentee. It's a neat circle where there are no escapes and too many directions to cover.

But that is not the point.

The peace of Namimori is being disrupted.

And the Hibari _maintain_ the peace of Namimori.

Izumi's fingers just miss his collar when he lunges forward.

xXXx

The bullied boy's name is Kusakabe Tetsuya and he is the same age as Kyoya. But that is where the similarities end. He has the starved, gaunt expression of a neglected child and the eyes of a beast. He is wary and tensed and clips Kyoya with a surprisingly quick fist.

 _Un_ surprisingly, Kyoya becomes very interested in what was simply prey.

The boy's name is Kusakabe Tetsuya, eleven-year-old, and he knows where his home is but does not want to go back, knows who his parents are but does not name them, knows to avoid strangers but punches them instead of running away. He remains on his feet when Kyoya drives a tonfa into his gut at first, and climbs back up every time he doesn't.

I stand by and watch in silence.

Kyoya wants to keep him, like the pet he cannot have, but I tell him that this, too, is something he cannot keep. He insists that we take him home, because it is dangerous to let him wander around so severely injured (more by Kyoya's hand than the bullies) and so we miss the fireworks display to drag the still-resisting child back home.

I wished we could have just walked on by and left him on the beach.

After all, there is no saving a beast.

xXXx

It is not, actually, my first time seeing a child that has been abused or neglected. Foster care is not usually for the teenager whose parents died in an accident.

In truth, it isn't even usually for the child whose parents died in an accident.

The world is a cruel place, and there are cruel people. There are people not fit to be human, not fit to be in society, not fit to be _alive._

Not fit to be _parents._

The world is a cruel place _because_ there are cruel people, but life isn't fair and there are cruel people alive and strong _and_ fit enough to torment a child.

Foster care is usually for those children who are found in time, the caretakers say. They rescue the children and give them a new start in life. The children are fortunate, because they were discovered before they become those who end up buried under the roots of the neighborhood's best gardens.

I say those children were found too late and too early.

The first days of my stay were filled with eyes.

I was the eldest. Older than the age any were brought in, and older than any child already staying at the orphanage. And so I was drafted to assist in as many responsibilities as possible without needing to be legal. Which simply meant that I could not go on cigarette runs. All the chores: cooking, cleaning, reading to the children, feeding the babies/toddlers were within my scope of duties.

After all, I didn't need to be paid.

Cooking and cleaning were hard work, but not the hardest. In truth, I didn't cook and clean as much as tend to the children. And even feeding the babies was not the hardest chore, and thus not what was most assigned to me.

No, that was the duty of caring for the 'special' children.

Who weren't even that special because there were so many of them.

So many, so many of them. So many, so many eyes.

The first days of my stay, I learnt to tell the special from the normal. The first days of my stay, I learnt that the world was a cruel place with cruel people who were not fit to be called human and who, worse still, had madetheir _children_ unfit to be human too. The first days of my stay, I knew the difference between the unlucky children, the neglected children, the abused children and all the ones in between.

It's all in the eyes.

The unlucky ones are unhappy, but everyone is unhappy in foster care. The caretakers are paid minimum wage and the volunteers are few and far between. Most care more for the image instead of the actual deed. The unlucky ones are no different from normal children in normal, intact families, except for that extra unhappiness which sometimes translates to extra brattiness. They have normal eyes, pinched at the edges with resent.

The neglected children are a step up. Or down. They're the ones clamoring for attention.

They scream, pull hair, refuse to obey. They'll do anything, cause anything, for just that scrap of attention. They have desperate eyes, screaming eyes, wide and clingy and _pay attention to me!_ eyes.

Or they huddle in corners, quiet and still like children are not supposed to be. They curl into themselves and they're not doing anything, but they're eyes are the same. _Look at me, I'm being good, I'm being quiet, I'm being still. Look at me, I'm doing what you say, so please don't look away._

But it's the abused that are the worst, that have the worst eyes and worst expressions and of course I was assigned to them most.

Some are survivors. Maybe the abuse wasn't too bad, maybe they were found early. They're wary and twitchy and flinch at every move. Their eyes dart from space to space and they like to keep near the doors. They don't like it when you loom over them, and they don't like it when you hug them. They won't stop if you do, but their eyes will dilate and they either disappear into themselves or plead silently for you to stop.

Some are lost. They're floating between here and elsewhere, eyes dull yet shining with strange light. They look at me but don't _see_ me. Sometimes they come back, sometimes they don't.

And worst of all, some are beasts. The result of a human beaten too far down and thrown bodily over the edge. The ones that still walk and talk like humans end up in orphanages instead of asylums, but what's inside is too broken, too raw, too far gone. When you approach them, they snarl, growl, and back up into corners so their backs aren't exposed.

They don't go for the doors, because there are no escapes for them. Instead, they do their _damndest_ to hike up the cost, to make it not worth your while. To bite, rip and tear as much as possible, so that you only beat them when really need to. They don't look for the exit, don't look to run away.

Because running just means being dragged back. And being dragged back means hell.

I've been bitten, scratched and growled at. I've fed them, fixed their injuries, and tended to their sicknesses. Through it all, I've learnt one thing.

They. Don't. Get. Better.

I hate the people who pushed them too hard.

I hate the people who pushed them _over._

I _hate_ the _people_ who continue to live on when these children never got the chance to.

But they won't get better.

Foster care is for the children who were found in time.

But these were found too late to heal.

And too early to have died.


	3. Lady, Lord and Vassal

They are a lady and a lord and his loyal vassal.

At least, that's the game that they're playing at the moment.

Izumi isn't mentioning it, but it was Kyoya's idea. She isn't sure where it came from—perhaps one of the period dramas on TV—but it's amusing and the boys are having fun and so she allows herself to be coaxed into sitting demurely on a cushion in front of the tearoom's hearth and whisking tea in an antique clay bowl. She's even wearing a kimono that belonged to Hibari Kayo, Kyoya's mother.

It makes her feel beautiful in an older, more dignified way. The way Kayo-san looked in the photographs. She straightens her posture and doesn't fidget, the way a lady of a Noble house should.

Kyoya is announcing an edict, while Tetsu-kun listens and nods solemnly. The two are adorable in their boys' haori, and way too serious for a game of make believe.

It is certainly interesting, the rules that Kyoya is gravely listing out from the top of his head whilst clutching an empty, half unrolled scroll. She catches something about respect and honour and discipline, which is to be expected, really. The rest are rules of conduct, rules of etiquette, rules of conversation and what knowledge of feudal history that he has. It is simple, sometimes repetitive, sometimes common sense, but to a troubled boy from a troubled family with a troubled history and more important things to pay attention to than class, it is enlightening.

There is just a little worry for the embroidered silk. The Hibari family has many old antiques, but Izumi figured that they would be of better use as props than wasting away in chests and cupboards. It is the same reason why she makes it a point to use a different tea set every day. However, there is still that little prickle of unease as her ward grips the scroll.

And then Kyoya is rolling up the well-preserved artifact in his hands carefully and settling himself on the cushion opposite her. She passes him the tea bowl and watches him sip carefully at it. He gives her a regal nod of approval which she takes a moment to preen at inwardly. It has been a long time since she partook in tea ceremony, and it is a first for her to host.

They trade looks. He glares as she hides a smile. After all, a lady should be quiet and complying, not loud and leading. She is playing her role, as she was requested. It is time for Kyoya to make the decisions.

Awkwardly, but refusing to be embarrassed, he gestures at his friend to seat himself on the third cushion. It is a long moment peppered with irritated gestures and hisses and infuriated glares, but Tetsu-kun finally manages to settle himself in an acceptably formal fashion.

The lady busies herself with another bowl, knowing better than to speak the words she has in mind.

She _does_ allow a smile to peek through as she recalls the video camera she convinced them to allow.

Kyoya is sipping his tea again, and Tetsu-kun is staring at him blatantly in hero-worship under the guise of learning, but she decides not to call him out on it. She pours water into the bowl of powdered matcha and whisks it, taking care to keep her wrist light easy. It would not do to spill over her kimono, after all.

Tetsu-kun takes the bowl with all the bearing of a priest at an altar, accepting it from her hands with care and a little worry. He can't know its worth, but he handles it exactly like the treasure it is. It's misplaced worth, but she likes how he's being careful because he doesn't want to ruin the game, not because he's holding a million yen piece of pottery. It makes his try at dignity that much more real.

They're not sharing bowls because a 'lord doesn't share his tea bowl, and a lady doesn't share bowls with men'. Kyoya is iffy about sharing utensils, even though he allows her to share bites from the same piece of cookie dough and trade ice-creams. Tetsu-kun is a friend—the only one, actually—but not family. He's arm-length where everyone else is ten feet away.

There's silence for a long moment. Not awkward, but not entirely comfortable. Tetsu-kun is gulping tea to avoid doing anything else, which is the same as Kyoya sipping his non-stop. Her ward seems to have run out of ideas as to what to do.

It is time for the lady to step out of the role for a moment. She can see the relief in Lord Hibari's eyes as he gives her leave to exit his presence.

The scroll has given her an idea. Tea ceremonies are not simply for drinking tea, after all. They are a gathering to observe an art, but they are also a gathering to _share_ art. She picks a few things here and there, what she thinks will be good for the boys to learn and practice. Tetsu-kun may come from a less prestigious family, but he can still be taught these important skills. She's no expert, but she can impress the importance just as Kyoya's parents have done for him.

When she returns, the tea has run out, and the boys are vibrating in their skins. Lord Hibari is staring straight ahead like a statue as his faithful Samurai Kusakabe stares at him in turn. It's a hilarious scene that makes her bite her tongue, but she manages a sedate pace back to her cushion.

When she draws out the books of haiku from her bulky sleeves, Kyoya's face lights up. She's not sure why, but she's glad he likes the idea, and so sets it aside to be read first. Cheaper empty scrolls appear together with an ink stone and calligraphy brushes. Tetsu-kun's face scrunches up in confusion when no bottle appears, but Izumi decided that if they were going to do it the traditional way, they would do everything the old way.

She brings out an inkstick.

It's a simple one, but she can tell that it is good quality from the texture and the added scents. In addition to letting the boys experience this piece of history, it will keep them too busy grinding to get the proper ink thickness she wants to fidget. Tetsu-kun is curious as she explains its use and its origin, and delighted when she passes it to him to examine. He rolls the block in his hand and runs fingers over the words carved into it and colored with what is possibly gold leaf.

She ignores that fact. It is an inkstick. It should be used the way it was meant to.

More books, a handful of Otedama, and then a Kendama, which received the most attention. She coughs mock-sternly and picks up a haiku book. The boys settle down.

It is a random series, with no discernible pattern. She picks a few that speak to her, a few that were simply on the next page, and a few that were more lighthearted.

In the warm tatami room, with a bowl of tea in front of her and dressed in a splendid kimono, Lady Izumi read poetry to her ward-lord and his vassal-friend.

WOMEN PLANTING RICE...  
UGLY EVERY BIT  
ABOUT THEM...  
BUT THEIR ANCIENT SONG

…

DEAD MY OLD FINE HOPES  
AND DRY MY DREAMING  
BUT STILL...  
IRIS, BLUE EACH SPRING

…

DEW EVAPORATES  
AND ALL OUR WORLD  
IS DEW ... SO DEAR,  
SO FRESH, SO FLEETING

…

FOR A LOVELY BOWL  
LET US ARRANGE THESE  
FLOWERS...  
SINCE THERE IS NO RICE

…

APRIL'S AIR STIRS IN  
WILLOW-LEAVES ...  
A BUTTERFLY  
FLOATS AND BALANCES

…

DON'T TOUCH MY PLUMTREE!  
SAID MY FRIEND  
AND SAYING SO ...  
BROKE THE BRANCH FOR ME


	4. Meeting Kyoya's cute tutorcoughvictim

"Hmmm…" Izumi hummed as she stared at the Bucking Bronco. She was giving him an intense look that he had never seen her give _anything_ before. His self-appointed mentor looked at her nervously as she continued her examination.

"How old is he again…?" She mused as she unpacked the First Aid kit she had brought. Kusakabe stepped forward to help, but she waved him away.

_Surely, she isn't thinking…?_

"Ahahaha," Chiavarone scratched his head and laughed, "I'm twenty-two this year…?"

Kyoya shot him a warning glare before addressing the _extremely important_ issue with his guardian, "He's an idiot."

There was the familiar sly look on her face now. "Handsome idiot," she retorted cheekily, watching the moron turn crimson as he started to comprehend what she was talking about. She didn't bother stifling her giggle as she brought out the antiseptic cream and Band-Aids. "C'mon 'idiot'. Since you have volunteered to be sacrificed to my son, I'll be kind and patch you up."

"S-s-s-s-son?!" The blonde squeaked in horror, head swiveling between the both of them. He resisted the urge to sigh as he shot his _guardian_ a deadpanned look. Her eyes were twinkling in glee at her newfound victim.

"Don't we look alike?" She chirped merrily as she approached the confused man with supplies in hand. With a firm tug, she got him to sit down.

Blue eyes stared at him in question as he struggled to wrap his head around the information. Of course, he had to make a bigger idiot out of himself, "Ah! Of course you do! That's what I was looking at! He has your…nose! Ahahahaha! Your s-s-son is doing fine! Ahahahaha!"

Kyoya gave an inward groan at Izumi's grin. He had enough sympathy in him to give the moron a silencing stare and shake his head. Hopefully he would get the signal to shut up and stop blabbering.

"Ahahaha…?"

The bronco gave his right-hand man a desperate look, even as he held himself rigidly still at his guardian's command. His lackey shook his head in response. "Er… Kyoya's mother? I didn't catch your name…?"

_Surely, he wasn't that stupid…?_

Izumi shot him an amused look as she reined in her chuckles. He could feel his respect for the idiot fall. What a pathetic herbivore.

"Tojita Izumi," the sly woman replied cheerfully, "And how shall I address you…?"

"Ah! You can just call me Dino, er, Izumi-san?"

_How dare he address her so familiarly!_

"In that case, just Izumi is fine. I'm familiar with the customs in Italy—you don't address people with suffixes do you?"

_That…!_

"Ah, that's true. Okay, then Izumi!"

Kyoya growled warningly. That was no excuse, they were in Japan now, not Italy!

"Eh…?"

xXXx

Dino Chiavarone was confused. Okay, scratch that, Dino was _boggled._ He didn't know that Kyoya had such a young mother! He hadn't believed it at first, but when his cute student didn't refute it, well, he knew him well enough to know that it had to be true.

Maybe it was the face. Kyoya certainly had a baby-face.

Reborn must have kept it a secret to see his reaction again…

Although, Izumi seemed to be pretty nice. If someone asked him what he thought Kyoya's family was like, he pictured a whole group of blank-faced, bloodthirsty people… He shivered at the image. Then wondered if he was safe in the care of this pretty woman who had raised such a boy.

"There we go," her cheerful voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked back into laughing brown eyes as she patted his arm gently. "Not 100%, but you'll need as much help as possible if you're going to be challenging Kyoya every night."

And wasn't that the truth? He grimaced inwardly, but beamed appreciatively at her, "Thank you!"

His student growled. Ehehehehe, maybe he shouldn't be too friendly with a married woman with a child. Speaking of married, he was kind of curious about Kyoya's family… "Errr, is your husband…?"

Another growl. Did he say something wrong…?

"Stop that," Kyoya scowled, "You're giving him the completely wrong idea."

Eh…? He turned back to the chuckling woman, "Did I miss something…?"

"Awww, you're no fun!" Izumi laughed. She gave Dino a lop-sided grin as she finally explained, "I adopted Kyoya when his parents died. We're only distantly related to each other from his father's and my mother's side."

"Er…" And now he had no idea what to say, "It must have been difficult for you…?" He recalled his previous words, "So your husband…?"

Another chuckle, "I'm still single, Dino."

"Eh?!" He shot up in alarm, now aware of the implications of their conversation, "Erm… Ma'am, I… I… I'm sure you have many suitors, but I'm…I'm not that experienced…" Oh god, what was he _saying?!_

Kyoya snarled at him, even as Izumi burst out in laughter. He threw his hands up fearfully and cowered. Argh, where was his whip?!

"Dino," Izumi giggled, "How old do you think I am?"

Even _he_ knew that that was a taboo question. He cringed.

"Er… You're very beautiful and look really really young!"

That should keep him safe right?

"I should _hope_ so, since I'm younger than you are."

_E-e-e-eehhhhh?!_

He spun his head back in shock, "B-but—adopt—Kyoya—sixteen—eh?!"

The girl—woman—lady gave him an impish look before shooting a glare behind him, "Kyoya, don't hit him while I'm flirting."

He twisted his neck again and found a tonfa in his face. _When did he get behind me?!_ Scrambling backwards, he fell on the ground. Then Izumi's words caught up with him, "Eh?! Fl-fl-flirting?!"

The only answer he received was breathless giggling and laughter.

xXXx

"Ky-ky-kyoya!" I giggled and held my side, "Don't hit him!" I covered my mouth, muffling the guffaws spilling out. Oh kami, this was too funny!

He gave me an exasperated look, but secreted his tonfa away again. Poor Dino looked as if he had been run over by a truck, than stampeded on by elephants. The deer-in-the-headlights look he was sporting didn't help my laughter either.

"I'm only twenty-one, Dino," I finally got out, relishing the look of horror on his face. He was obviously remembering his 'You look really really young' comment. I snorted as it morphed into an _oh-hell-I'm-gonna-die_ face.

"B-but… adopt?" He squeaked, looking more freaked out than when Kyoya had managed to toss his beloved whip away. Hmmm, that was another thing to tease him about…

"I adopted Kyoya when I was 16," I finally elaborated, deciding to release him from his misery. "He was 10, then," I added.

"16?!" He repeated, now looking somewhat disturbed. He gave the both of us another series of horrified looks, "That's…"

"Okay!" I clapped my hands and interrupted, "That's enough heart-to-heart and shocking revelations for tonight. Kyoya, I've made dinner and you're already late. Dino, go back home and nurse your injuries and get some rest for tomorrow's ass-kicking—ah, I meant training." I repacked my kit swiftly and waved my ward over.

Silently, he walked over to my side and took the heavy box from my hands. I waved at the gawking foreigner—and such a cute fellow too!—and descended down the steps. As the door closed, I could hear a loud, "EEEEHHH?!"

I didn't stop my cackling. Beside me, Kyoya huffed.


	5. Baby Pics

Dino had no idea how it had happened. One moment he was discussing Romario's findings about Tojita Izumi—Kyoya's adopted _mother, merda_ —and the next, he was agreeing with Reborn to visit her home to find out more. While he was used to being forced by his former tutor into doing ridiculous things, he was usually _aware_ of agreeing to them as well as the _danger_ of attempting them.

Somehow that danger sense had eluded him this time.

It was making a quick comeback now, when he couldn't take back his words and could only bemoan his inattentiveness and lousy luck _._ It was all he could do to stop himself from crumpling to the ground in a ball and rocking back and forth. It had been awhile since he'd last felt this low. Incidentally, it coincided with the period Reborn had been absent from his life.

He was doomed.

So here he was, all on his lonesome because Romario had been forbidden from tagging along, ringing the bell to a _huge_ Japanese-styled mansion on par with the main Chiavarone residence in Italy. _After_ he had fixed the mess that was their finances. He resisted the urge to gulp. His right-hand man hadn't been kidding when he said that Kyoya's family was loaded.

"Who is it?" A familiar female voice sounded from the intercom. He breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn't gotten his student, but felt a chill run down his spine as he recalled his relationship to this person.

(Let's face it, Kyoya was a berserker through and through. The only reason why he continued his forced nonchalance was because, just like any animal, you couldn't let him smell fear.)

"Er…" he cleared his throat, "It's Dino, Izumi! Remember me? Kyoya's tutor…"

"Ah, yes," she chuckled—her voice was actually quite nice—and replied, "Reborn told me you'd be visiting. Step back a bit, I'll open the gates."

Nervously, he took several steps back—thankfully without tripping—and watched as the large, ominous gates swung outwards. Contrary to his expectations, the view that greeted him was breathtaking. The front of the house was one of those traditional Japanese landscape gardens, with mini-bonsai and a koi pond with lotus flowers. He'd seen a few such gardens, but none of them so extravagant.

"Welcome!" A voice greeted as he admired the plants—there was even a bonsai that had equally miniature flowers.

He looked up to yet another vision.

Kyoya's adopted mother was as pretty as he remembered from that first confusing meeting. Decked out in a traditional Japanese yukata with little purple flowers set in a gray background, she was rather breathtaking herself.

Said vision was beaming down at him from the top of a flight of steps.

"Ah!" He smiled as he made his way towards her, "Hi!"

As he widened his grin and waved, his foot caught on the first step, sending him careening forward head-first. He threw out his hands and managed to protect his face, but groaned as his arms crashed into the uneven stone. Fortunately, his body was well-experienced in taking punishment, both intentional and unintentional, and there was no permanent damage. In fact, he knew that the pain would soon diminish given some time.

Unfortunately, there went his (formal) first impression.

A steady hand took hold of his arm and pulled him up. He managed a pained chuckle as he struggled to his feet, not very hopefully throwing out an, "Erm… this doesn't happen all the time…"

"Reborn already told me," Izumi cut in matter-of-factly, "Let's get you seated so you won't crash into anything else."

"Ahahaha…" He flushed and bowed his head. Despite assumptions that he was unaware of his lack of grace, Dino was _not_ entirely clueless. As a matter of fact, he was not clueless about it at all. With Reborn as his tutor, self-delusion was hardly possible. Sadly, there was a reason why he was still single despite being the boss of one of the strongest and most famous families in Italy.

Of course, that did not, however, meant that he could not deny it (either facts) to his dying breath.

Not that he was looking at Izumi in _that_ way, of course.

Although, she _did_ admit to flirting with him that time.

Could it be possible that that was a memory to keep in mind?

He blinked as he was pushed into a chair. Somehow, she had maneuvered him safely into the living room. He could see the same grace in both relatives, although one could arguably be a wild beast.

"If I give you a cup of tea, will you spill it?" She inquired expectantly. The bluntness caused him to choke and stutter under her deceptively innocent eyes.

"Er…" he floundered.

"All our cups are antiques handed down from generations," she added, "Better tell the truth."

He flushed again, "Erm… Then… it's better not…" He resisted the urge to rub his head sheepishly. It was one thing to deny clumsiness when there was no harm done, but he knew better than to guarantee something that was a definite impossibility when there were consequences. For all that this was a simple visitation of mentor to guardian, he could not afford to insult the local established family.

Shooting him an amused look, she replied, "Wait here."

And then, she left the room.

He sighed in relief as the tension eased, finally relaxing enough to lean into his obviously expensive and tasteful seat. (Yet another spillage hazard) It was the first time someone other than Reborn had been so upfront with him about his clumsiness. Although he had to admit that she had not been as malicious about it as the hitman.

He sighed a little and rubbed his temple. This simple visitation was beginning to turn into the previously expected highly-wired interrogation. And there was no doubt that there would be an interrogation, couched in soft tones and obsequious words as it would be.

"Here," he jerked as something was thrust under his nose. He blinked at the packet drink with a straw—a straw that had already been poked in. He looked up to his hostess's friendly smile as she waved the packet in his face. "I think that's as idiot-proof as I can make it, right?"

_Kill me now._

He wondered if it was possible to blush to death. It wasn't his first time floundering around a pretty woman, or even his first time with one poking at his ineptitude, but it was a first for it to be so bluntly _acted_ upon. (Reborn was The Exception to everything)

At a loss for words, he mumbled an "erm…" and took the drink as carefully as possible from her. To his _further_ embarrassment, she didn't let go until he had both hands wrapped securely around it. He could feel his face attempt to spontaneously combust as she warned him not to squeeze it too tightly.

 _Mio dio, I'm not a child_ …

"You're already squeezing it too much."

"Ah!" He jolted, loosening his grip. _Too_ loose, he realized, as it slipped out from his hands.

_Mannaggia!_

There was a flash of movement and he flinched as his flailing hands produced a slap instead of a crack or splatter.

"Wow," a voice commented dryly, "I thought I'd anticipated the extent it could be taken to, but looks like I underestimated it."

He blinked.

Izumi was staring at him in amusement with the packet safely in her hands. Somehow, she'd gotten in front of him in time to prevent it from spilling.

_What was that word again? Oh yeah. Ninja!_

Then he realized that he must have hit her in his attempt to catch his drink himself.

"I'm sorry!" He cried, trying to figure out where he had struck her. He'd just entered the house and already there was a potential disaster brewing in the horizon. It must be a record. Making an enemy before exchanging proper greetings or even discussing anything!

_Oh merda, I am so dead. Reborn will kill me. Kyoya will kill me. In fact, I'm not sure that_ _**Izumi** _ _won't try first! How am I going to explain this to Romario? Cristo, as if I don't have enough problems dealing with the Rossi, Ricci, and the Greco. This is horrible. What is she going to ask as compensation…?_

He froze as a hand was laid on his head.

"…Eh?"

He crossed his eyes in an attempt to stare at the mysterious limb.

"Calm down," his hostess stated firmly as she pressed down gently. He was still too stunned to react as she patted his hair once and reached over to place the drink in his hands again. He automatically cupped it as he processed things.

… _Mio dio, she really thinks of me as a child…_

"Better drink some of that first so that it won't spill immediately if you squeeze it."

He pouted at her wary look.

_You didn't have to give it to me if you didn't want to…_

But he took a sip anyway.

_Milk Tea. Oooh. I thought it'd be Green Tea again, ugh… Not that I hate it, but it was getting too much…_

He took a bigger slurp, smiling a little in appreciation.

_Did she choose it on purpose…?_

He peeked at his hostess over his drink, only to find her smirking as she watched him. He flushed and manfully resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands (and possibly squirt the milk tea all over his clothes as a result).

_Argh, this is_ _**not** _ _helping her impression!_

"So," she gave him an amused look as he pointedly lowered his drink, "What did you want to talk about?"

He froze.

He hadn't thought about an excuse for visiting! He'd just agreed to Reborn's idea and found himself with directions to the house…

"I wanted to know more about you!" He blurted, aware that the silence was stretching too long.

And then he had to stop himself from slapping himself silly. What was _wrong_ with him?!

He watched in trepidation as the woman blinked. The slow grin growing on her lips made him groan inwardly.

"You know, when I told Kyoya I was flirting with you that time, it was just a joke." She paused to appreciate his flushed face and continued, "Besides, why would I want to date someone who thought I was old?"

"That was—!" He protested, rising slightly from his seat. He stuttered a little before finding his voice, "I thought you were older because you said you adopted Kyoya and he's sixteen and you said you were his _mother_ and so…"

A loud burst of laughter interrupted his babbling. He watched the woman giggle uncontrollably and clutch her stomach. It was such a great difference to his previous image of her that he found himself relaxing unconsciously. Her eyes twinkled in glee as she pressed a hand to her mouth.

He could see how she was a year younger than him now.

Wait, she was _a year younger than him._

He blinked in realization. That was… startling. And interesting when he recalled that she had adopted Kyoya at the age of _sixteen._ An age a mere five years ago. She'd raised a kid and she was _barely in her twenties._ Dino had been lauded for single-handedly turning the Cavallone family around at seventeen years old, and it had been _hell._ But what she had accomplished was possibly on par with him.

As a mafia boss, Dino was used to measuring a person's worth in terms of skillset. Kyoya was undeniably a great—and rare—find. Genii were not as scarce as one thought, especially in families with well-known flame alignments. But rearing them without ruining their genius or morality or what-have-you was a constant challenge. After all, he, himself had had difficulties finding his feet until Reborn literally gave him a kick-start down the right path.

On the more humane scale, his cute student was also a decent human being.

(In terms of code of conduct and ethics and other apparently more important parts of morality that Izumi had deemed worth impressing upon. Mercy was obviously excluded. Come to think of it, Izumi would make a fantastic mafia lady… No Dino! Stop right there!)

"So…" he cleared his throat, "You and Kyoya… you're very close." He had seen how he obeyed her instructions without protest, something he had always thought impossible.

She gave him a crooked smile, "I raised him. Of course we are."

He smiled back weakly.

The latter was a statement that continued to astonish him. He hadn't been too close to his old man himself. His mother may have been the _official_ wife, but it didn't stop him from enjoying himself outside the family. And when she died, it hadn't been long before another took her place. It _still_ came as a surprise that he had been chosen to lead the family.

He coughed, "What was he like? I can't imagine him as a kid…"

It was the magic word. He watched as her face bloomed into a huge smile. Her eyes sparkled with as she described her son, "He was almost _exactly_ the same as he is now. Face blank as stone, only scowling, frowning—it was more similar to pouting at that age—or glaring. Tried his best not to say a word. Communicating only through grunting or growling. Oh, except that phrase, 'bite you to death'. I _still_ have no idea where he learnt it."

He laughed, even as he felt a twinge at the obvious affection in her teasing voice. His mother had never been the loving sort—hers was a marriage of convenience. He'd thought Nana a wonderful mother with how she treated the children in her house.

However, he'd never heard Nana regale him with stories of Tsuna's past. From what he understood, it wasn't very eventful (or memorable…with the bullying and everything) but listening to Izumi as she described Kyoya's growth, he wondered at that.

His hostess could remember every single detail of the six years she had spent with Kyoya, as if each and every memory were a treasure to be hoarded. She had photographs, videos, diaries, notes and even old mementos, some of which she dug out and displayed with some admittedly cheeky glee. He found himself sputtering and giggling along as she shared story after story. Oh wow, if Kyoya could see him now…

"What is this?" A familiar voice growled lowly.

_Speak of the devil…_

"Kyoya!" Izumi greeted cheerfully, waving the photo album in her hand at her son, "I was just showing Dino some of your old pictures!"

_Oh merda… that glare is_ _**evil** _ _._

He gave props to anyone who did not quail under it. But apparently, raising the beast himself came with its own special abilities. Izumi wasn't even _fazed._

Then again, knowing the kind of stories she did about him, he wasn't so surprised…

"Kyoya, I _never_ get to share stories with anyone! It's so _sad._ I'm pretty sure Dino doesn't gossip or anything, and besides, he's your mentor, isn't he?"

"He's an _herbivore."_

"And I eat vegetables too," she replied so dryly that he had to stifle a hysterical giggle. She gave her son a level look, "I _like_ remembering the things we've done, and I _like sharing_ the things we've done. I took the photos and everything to _show_ them, not gather dust somewhere in my cupboard."

A growl.

"Oh please," she scoffed, "Of course some of it will be embarrassing. You can't deny doing some pretty stupid things. And what's the fun if I don't get to tell anyone?"

Snarls. Dino quivered a little as the evil glare actually _increased in intensity._

"Kyoya," Izumi crossed her arms, "If you don't want to be present, go to your room. I want to tell Dino about our past and I'm doing it. You can't honestly expect me to go to all the trouble to record it and not share it with him? It was sad enough when you went to Middle School and the only friend you brought back was Tetsu-kun. I couldn't tell him anything because he had that _worship-Kyo-san_ phase and telling him anything even remotely embarrassing would have broken his brain or something."

Dino valiantly tried to ignore the shit-eating grin attempting to crawl onto his face. His student had stopped glaring and actually looked faintly embarrassed and exasperated.

"You tell your friends every time they come over," he retorted, although it was obvious that he was caving in. Dino had to take a moment to come to terms with that. Someone was actually _winning_ an argument with the rabid beast.

Said someone rolled her eyes, "Oh please, they were practically _there_ most of the time. It's not as fun. Besides, I want to show off how wonderful a kid you were!"

Now it was _clear_ that Kyoya was embarrassed. He shot her a piercing glare even as a light flush colored his cheeks. When she remained unmoved, he gave an indignant huff before stomping away.

Some deduction allowed the conclusion that the destination was probably his room as his mother had ordered.

_Kyoya just got_ _**sent to his room. Gesù.** _

"Awww," Dino turned to give an awed look at Izumi as she winked back, " _such_ a pity. I was going to start telling you about that time he first tried drinking alcohol…"

He wondered if it was possible to actually crack a rib laughing.


	6. TYL Tragedy

Kyoya hears the words falling from Kusakabe's lips and wonders if he is dreaming. He has strange dreams sometimes, and the weirdest shit happens and of course this is included because there is _just no way_ that Izumi, his sometimes sister, sometimes mother, is _dead._

No. Way.

It's not possible.

Because _Kyoya_ will die before she does. He will. He never promised or swore to protect her, but he doesn't need to—it's _obvious._

And thus this is impossible.

Kusakabe is staring him in a manner that is highly insulting—a mixture of sadness and _pity._ Since when has his own subordinate (albeit one ten years in the future) felt confident enough to express _pity_ at him?

Or even feel it all together.

He can't quite hear anything properly. There is a strange rushing sound and a thump and a throb and maybe it's his heart or maybe it's the wind and he's a little interested to know where it's from because this is going to be a problem if it lasts but the important thing is that he can't quite hear properly.

He can still bite Kusakabe for his insolence, though.

He does that and makes his way half-deafly to where he has been informed is his rooms in this 'secret basement' that is obviously on Hibari land. Why in the world his future self would allow all these herbivores to crowd together on _Hibari land_ he doesn't know, but it is obvious that there is something very wrong with this picture. He knows he will never do such an _herbivorous_ thing.

So this 'future' must be either a dream or a parallel world where he is more pathetic than he thought. Herbivores on Hibari land and Izumi missing and himself bowing in submission to that weak hamster-like being that goes by the name Sawada Tsunayoshi. And _joining_ his weak, pathetic mafia organization. (He will have one, and only _one,_ 'family')

He is a little reluctant to admit that _any_ version of himself would be such a pathetic herbivore, but he has to make allowances because that is the only answer. After all, if the Kusakabe here is to be believed and trusted—perhaps not, what kind of subordinate has the Hibari Kyoya here picked, that he would express _pity_ at him—this Hibari Kyoya has allowed his Izumi to _die._

He still cannot understand _how._ It is a low that cannot be topped. It's a _travesty._ It _insults_ the existence of all Hibari Kyoyas. (If the baby's theory of multiple parallel worlds is to be believed)

Oh, he has reached his rooms. His lack of hearing must be affecting his ability to judge distances. Hopefully it will return tomorrow because the baby has informed him that there will be a fight and fighting deaf is cumbersome. And not as enjoyable.

He can't sleep at the moment (and there _are_ times when he doesn't want to take a nap) so he decides to search around 'his' future self's things to figure out the mystery of who the hell he is and just _how_ pathetic he is.

xXXx

He can't—it doesn't—she _wouldn't…_

Except, somehow, she _did._

Kyoya stares at the letter a little blankly and tries not to allow the growing hollowness in his chest engulf his entire being. It is uncomfortable in a difficult-to-breathe manner and his breath is beginning to hitch and his eyes are stinging because of the lack of oxygen. It is uncomfortable and he doesn't like it and this isn't real and this can't be true and this _can't be real._

But it does fit Izumi.

Fits her to the very last stroke in her name. He wonders if he should go to the hospital because he is actually entertaining the possibility that this Izumi is his Izumi and that ten years into the future she will die in order to save him and leave a letter apologizing for leaving him and telling him that she's sorry to leave, dear heart, but she's not apologizing because she'd rather it was her than him.

Or that he would obviously fail to foil her ploy and end up mourning her without any body to mourn and reminiscing about her instead of reminiscing _with_ her.

He bites his lips and tries not to breathe too erratically like his lungs are trying to make him and tries to crumple up the stupid note but his hand won't close obviously there's something wrong with him he should go to hospital to have that checked and this isn't possible. T _hisisntpossible._

But it _is,_ because she _would_ and he'd have to be blind, deaf and dumb AND retarded not to know that. And she is smart enough, clever enough, cunning and sly and stupid and selfless and just all around _moronic_ enough to do such a thing.

But he had been counting on himself being or becoming smart enough, clever enough, cunning and sly and brave and strong and determined enough to _keep her_ from actually _achieving it._

Or just god fucking _stubborn enough._

He finally manages to fold the letter twice, pressing the edges down and ironing them flat with his fingers, and toss it away into that drawer which he is never never _never_ opening again.

And then he pulls out the futon from the cupboard, puts on a yukata, and goes to sleep because obviously people go back to sleep in dreams in order to wake up.

xXxx

It is the arcobaleno trials, or whatever the hell the babies are, and they are returning to the pa—their proper world. He has searched everywhere for Izumi in this twisted version of his home and there is no trace of her except in the things in his room and he can't find any other clues or writing or pictures. He can't find a 'ten years later' photo of her and that is very suspicious but that's not the _goddamned issue here_ —he _needs_ it because he needs to know what she looks like so that he can _find_ the damned woman.

Izumi is strong, stronger than him, stronger than hamster-sometimes-lion Sawada, stronger than the monkey king and the stupid shark and all the other animals in the zoo. She's strong and clever and wise and cunning.

And he's not just going to accept that she (even an alternate version of her) is dead on account of the words of an obviously subpar version of his subordinate and a flimsy piece of paper.

But they're going back to their pa— _proper world_ now and he'll confront the damned woman herself. And tell her never to do such a silly thing because it's obvious that it is completely retarded and crazy and idiotic he can take care of himself he _can_ she needs to _swear_ not to do it he'll _make her he will_.

xXXx

He is standing outside the doorway and his feet have stopped by themselves at the threshold. He didn't ring the bell at the gate because it's his own goddamned house and he has his own goddamned key and he doesn't need anybody's goddamned permission to enter. It takes a few more minutes of straining his ears for who knows what before he shakes out of this strange mood.

But the house is eerily empty and silent and he is tempted to thrash a few things just to get rid of that.

The _heck_ is he thinking, everything at home is a priceless antique, collected and passed down from generations of the Hibari line. He mentally slaps himself upside the head and makes sure to _stride_ inside.

He has just removed his shoes and is taking off his coat to put on the rack when her voice calls out from the gardens and he doesn't need to think before he is dashing over. His breath is hitching again and there is obviously something wrong with his health he'd better check himself in the hospital again or she'd get worr—

"Back so soon? You just went out! Did something happ—oof!"

_Sheshereshesheresheshereand she's_ _**safe.** _

_**Alive.** _

"…Kyoya?"

"…Did something happen?"

"…Why don't you let me wash my hands first and I'll hug you properly and then we can talk, m'kay? Oh, and do you want any tea?"

_The hell are you so calm? You owe me an_ _**explanation** _ _dammit woman!_

"…No."

"Okay, I'm just going to wash my hands and put the shovel away. It won't take two seconds. No you don't need to come, I can keep the shovel mys—"

"…"

"…Come on. Let's go inside and talk."

xXXx

"So…" Kyoya watches his sister/mother settle herself on the couch with hawk-eyes. She is picking up some of the tension in his body and her worried eyes are sharpening into familiar iciness. She looks just like a member of his family should. He just can't understand how a member of his family can be so _stupid._

"What happened, Kyoya?"

Her voice is low and calm and quietly thrumming with not-quite-danger-yet and he knows that she is speaking from that cold center in her that she finds when she thinks there is a threat. It's not the full freeze yet, but there is a distinctive glint of steel in her eyes, the blade of it slightly unsheathed.

He is still biting his lips, he realizes. He never does that—it's unbecoming. He stops abruptly and instead of sitting opposite her like he usually does, he sits beside her—almost on top of her. He's taller and heavier than her but he can't allow her to get away from him or she might get the harebrained idea of _sacrificing_ herself in his place.

She doesn't comment and it is then that he knows he is worrying her. She is breathing in that deliberate manner that means she is prepared to fight right-here-right-now-just-point-me-who. But that isn't what he wants and even though it's not Hibari, oh who the fuck cares, he pulls her into his lap so she can't go anywhere. He tries not to smother her, but he can't help pressing his face into her neck like he used to do when he was still small enough to sit in _her_ lap.

It's right in her bosom now because she's turned around and squished him into it, but she's stroking his hair like she used to and he can hear her heartbeat like this and she's his _Izumi_ nothing in the world can make him move away.

They remain in this position for a long time, until he can finally find the words to describe his disappointment and anger and outrage and they spill from his lips like a waterfall and his voice raises and he's trembling from fury even as he clutches her to him so that she cannot disappear.

He won't _let her._

She _can't._

He won't _allow it._

He can't hear properly again when she starts to speak, and it's only because her breathing changes that he knows she is talking. He tries to blink away the hot liquid in his eyes _from yelling_ and focus on her voice. It's still distant and he can sort of make out words and there's his name and _shhhh_ although that's not a word and what kind of excuse is she making up he deserves a proper _explanation_ and…

A sound leaves his mouth and she stiffens. He can't hear it but he knows it was breathless and tight and somewhat incoherent. It's ill-befitting a Hibari to be so unsettled but he just needs a moment to gather himself and he'll be fine, it's _fine._

It happens again and he's wondering what the hell is wrong with his mouth and chest and brain and are his lungs working properly why can't he talk properly and no, he is _not_ sobbing Hibaris don't sob they _don't they don't_ _ **he's**_ _ **not**_ _stop_ _ **talking**_ _to him like that._

xXXx

They're leaving soon. The stupid herbivore has passed the stupid baby's test and everything and they're _stupidly_ attempting to force him to come even though he plainly stated that he was _not leaving._ How Izumi had been convinced to make him go he isn't sure but he will remember this and he will _bite_ that _stupid_ baby to death.

Why the fuck does he have to go too?!

He has _no_ relation with those stupid crowding herbivores and he _needs_ to _stay_ with Izumi _dammit_ who knows what kind of stupid idea she might come up with while he isn't around?!

And fuck it, he wants to sleep in his own bed with Izumi down the hall this time instead of some pathetic version of himself's who lost his own Izumi and it's his own fault and no he is _not_ the future him he will _never_ be so pathetic _never never never._

What the hell—he does _not_ want to g—there is _no bloody reason_ that will convin—

So if he doesn't go their plan will fail and the future will be the same. The stupid baby is sure that the plan will change the future and he makes no promises but it is obvious that he implies that Izumi might survive instead.

 _The other_ Izumi, that is. His is perfectly fine.

He still doesn't want to go—he's _grouping_ with herbivores goddamnit—but he owes Izumi, _any_ Izumi, a lot and if it means an alternate version of Hibari Kyoya who's _ten years younger_ has to step up to the challenge because the original one fucked up, then… then…

But _godfuckingdammit_ why does it have to be right now, dammit, he hasn't seen Izumi for so long and now they're going back the older him owes him dammit and no he meant the _alternate world_ older him not the older him older him and no, he is not in fucking denial thank you very much keep your opinion to yourself or he'll bite you to fucking death. And no he does _not_ sound like that fucking annoying blonde baby with the stupid swearing speech impediment.

He still doesn't want to go but Izumi can't die and he won't let her and she's promised not to do anything stupid while he's gone so he puts on his newly cleaned coat and follows the fucking crowding herbivores to the stupid-looking fucking _purple_ firework shooter and _shoots_ himself this is such a _stupid_ way to go to the future who on earth _invented_ such a stupid thing and why couldn't they make it differently he is going to _bite them the fuck to death_ for this.

Purple smoke surrounds him and he watches her as it rises until he can't see anything. She is smiling and waving goodbye but _not forever_ and he knows that he'll come back and they will have a _proper talk_ this time.

She still owes him an explanation dammit.

xXXx

Contrary to popular (or at least, outside of his group of friends) belief, Tsuna isn't stupid. Dame-Tsuna is a well-deserved name and everything because he isn't all that smart and is sometimes downright clumsy, but Tsuna isn't _completely_ stupid. And he's very observant.

You see, when you're being bullied left and right and you have to run away as fast as you possibly can in order to keep your lunch money, you tend to get that sixth sense of danger. It's the same one that keeps screaming at him and screws up what little composure he has whenever Reborn is in the vicinity _which is all the time now_ , and it's useful for picking up things about other people.

Nowadays he knows that it's part hyperintuition, part sky-sensitivity, part social engineering. But before those days, it was simply an effective method of keeping out of trouble. Most days he is of the opinion that Now is much, much better than Before, even if he has to rely on it for more than just avoiding trouble. But at the moment, he regrets the keenness to which Reborn has honed his sixth sense to.

For one, Tsuna knows that there is something very, very wrong with the Hibari-san in this timeline.

By all accounts, Hibari-san has become even _more_ scary than he was, and smarter and more graceful and even more like a mafia boss than the sixteen-year-old version of him. He's well-versed in different fighting styles, manages the Discipline Committee with the poise of an emperor, and can actually socialize when needed (he actually speaks more than monosyllabic sentences when they planned their ambush on Byakuran). He's even a _decent teacher_ , albeit a brutal one, but Tsuna has no doubts that if he were to ask young Hibari-san for lessons he'd just end up little more than a punching bag.

But something is wrong with older Hibari-san.

There's the usual buzzing at the edge of his senses whenever Hibari-san is near. Hibari-san is like the personification of his flame. It's a black cloud that vibrates with energy, with unbridled violence and destruction. It's fierce and dark and frightening, but it's also cleansing. Heavier than the grey masses Tsuna used to watch from his window, it threatens to open up the heavens and leave the air scenting of pure water and ozone. In many ways, it characterizes Hibari-san, the way he leaves behind trails of destruction, but also how he maintains his black-and-white rules. To the prefect, everything is simple and well-defined. Tsuna wishes that his world could be like that.

But older Hibari-san's presence doesn't so much buzz as _tremble and shiver_. Like that mad dog he saw on the street once, staring sightlessly at everything, just shy of suddenly lunging and snapping someone's neck. And he doesn't know what to _do_. He's always known to leave Hibari-san alone, because that's the way he is, and that's the way _they_ are. But he _can't_ leave him alone, because this is _not_ a wound that will heal itself, and it leaves him feeling useless and bereft and resentful and guilty all at once.

It's almost a relief when young Hibari-san appears in his place, although Tsuna isn't sure who was more relieved—him or older Hibari-san.

But then, the problem actually _spread_.

Tsuna isn't sure what is _wrong_ with this time, that it keeps injuring his Cloud Guardian so painfully, be it the younger or older version. Hibari-san (there's only one of him to keep in mind now) returns to the base filled with restless energy. It's very close to the _manic_ energy that his alternate version had, and it makes Tsuna flinch. Flinch and pray that it doesn't grow further because he doesn't know what to _do_ Hibari-san doesn't _get hurt_ so much as bruise slightly, and those he just shrugs off _._

Throughout their stay, he's searching for something. Tsuna doesn't know what, doesn't know how to help, how to _fix it,_ and he daren't ask _anyone,_ even Kusakabe. His skin crawls each time he thinks of it. He's learnt to never ignore his hyperintuition, but _damned_ if he wishes that there was something he could do.

They return to their time for the arcobaleno test, and he hopes things will sort themselves out. Hibari-san disappears, presumably to ensure his estate is maintaining its standard of discipline. Tsuna thinks that everything will be resolved, but suddenly Hibari-san is fighting with Mukuro and it turns out that it _isn't._

It isn't so much that Hibari-san is fighting Mukuro that gets Tsuna, it's that Tsuna can see so much more clearly how off his game he is. Hibari-san is always Hibari-san, but it's in his fighting that he is most in tune with himself, the most at ease, and resplendent in that languid confidence and primal strength that he only usually hints at.

Tsuna is used to being scared _._ Yes, it's true. He's _used to being scared._ He knows fear like the back of his hand, like an old enemy. He's so used to jumping in fright he does it even when he's not really that scared.

But this? He isn't scared, he's _panicking._

Hibari-san is the rock (ironically enough) that Tsuna has learned to measure by. He is everything that Tsuna isn't. He is strong, he is smart, and everything he does is graceful and controlled. He is _always_ calm in the face of trouble, no matter how strong the opponent is. Hibari-san losing that (even if his outer expression is unchanged), is like Tsuna losing what little ballast is left in his rapidly changing and upheaving world.

Hibari-san does not _change,_ no matter the 'flightiness' of his flame.

So Tsuna forces himself to turn to the one person whom he knew would always have an answer.

Reborn.

It's painful to request something of his tutor. _Literally._ Tsuna isn't actually ashamed of asking for help when he needs it, because he knows that he _always_ needs it, but asking something from Reborn on top of what he has given him is always jarring. Like he said, he isn't stupid. He knows what the arcobaleno has done for him.

Just as _Reborn himself_ knows.

And Reborn doesn't do anything for nothing, which is why Tsuna finds himself promising his dedication to what he _knows_ will be a grueling training session. Several, in fact. Reborn works him hard enough as it is, but swearing to put in _even more_ effort pushes very close to the point of killing him.

Literally as well, he's pretty sure.

But Reborn gets that glint in his eyes and vanishes off to do whatever it is he does, and the next time the team gathers together, Hibari-san is back. Tsuna sighs in relief, because he doesn't know what he'd do if Hibari-san ever becomes like his future self—that hollow, twitching, diseased part burrowed right in the core.

Hibari-san's not quite _normal_ yet, but in the place of that frantic fury is a cold focus that Tsuna has only seen in one other person.

…

Sometimes Tsuna hates his hyperintuition. It's great when he can see things that other people can't, when he can tell a situation with just a few clues.

It's not so great when he learns things he rather never had to so much as entertain the thought of.

As the pieces of that broken picture slide into place, Tsuna has to try and prevent himself from feeling just as shattered.

xXXx

Hayato and Takeshi aren't quite sure why Boss/Tsuna was so quiet when they returned to the future. Why he suddenly froze as if he had been slapped in the face. He's stiff and uneasy, eyes darting everywhere around the base as if searching for something. He leaves dinner early and waves them off when they ask.

He goes to bed early too, but Hayato thinks that it's because he's tired from facing the trials. Takeshi laughs and jokes that perhaps he saw a UMA, which makes Hayato brighten like a light bulb before falling back into a scowl which then turns into yelling. They part amidst promises of violence and lighthearted chuckles.

Reborn watches from the shadows in his protective suit.

xXXx

Hayato analyzes his beloved Jyuudaime's actions closely, comparing and contrasting them with previous behavior so as to discover what it is which has burdened him. He draws charts in his mind—making a note to draw physical ones tomorrow—and diagrams and patterns. He replays the conversations stored in his superb memory again and again.

Jyuudaime gets quiet when worried. He also gets that same gobsmacked expression when he realizes something. That he did not share it means that it is either something very terrible, or private, or both.

That he searched the base means that what whatever it is should exist in this timeline as well as the past.

That it is a _terrible realization_ means that whatever it is _does not._

It is not a large leap to figure out.

Someone—someone _other_ than Jyuudaime—has died in the future.

Hayato is still naming names and placing faces when he drifts off to sleep.

He isn't sure he wants to discover who's missing, but that's the curse of genius: you can't stop until you know the answer.

xXXx

Takeshi thinks that Tsuna's actions are very familiar. He takes time to think over them. He isn't very good at it, but if there is anyone worth wracking his brains over, it is Tsuna. He isn't very good at figuring things out, but if there's one thing he knows, it's actions.

He knows that people aren't always what they say. But he knows that people are always what they _do._

So he thinks of Tsuna and thinks of how he usually acts and how he's acting now and if he's acted that way before and that is a lot of thinking but hey, it's like going through baseball drills in your mind before you perform them. You think 'pow' and 'bam' and 'whoosh' and you do it, but if it's 'pow' and ' _zoom'_ and 'whoosh', you know it's wrong and you do it again until you get it right.

It's only when he is drowsy and nodding off that he catches sight of Shigure Kintoki and realizes that Tsuna acted very much the same when Reborn told them Oyaji had died.


	7. TYL Hibari's 5 minutes

It's been a long day.

These days, Kyoya gets through each day the way one gets through quicksand. Struggling, sloughing, weighed down by everything.

And still sinking with every step.

These days he doesn't rise with the sun. These days he doesn't rise at all. His bed is still in the exact same sheets as the day she left.

He's not sure why he left the bed alone even though he's fine with moving the other things in the room. He can pick up her letter and read it, he can change into the suits she forced him to buy, he can walk pass her room—walk _into_ her room—and feel perfectly fine.

Because he's strong.

He's strong and he's fine and Tetsu needs to stop looking at him like that. He knows perfectly well that Izumi is dead and gone now and no, he isn't in denial. He misses her, but they knew the dangers of the life they lead. She was good—one of the best—but it just takes one chance.

Once chance they had taken because he had been careless.

No—not careless. Never careless. Kyoya knew the responsibility he held in his hands. The lives on his shoulders. He'd not been careless, Byakuran had simply been smarter.

In a way, he respects the snake, who shares the same razor-sharp mind as Izumi.

Shared. He needs to start fixing his tenses before Tetsu Looks at him again. Or Tsunayoshi.

He also knows not to blame himself. Izumi taught him about that. Unlike the Sawada family, they had never been afraid of talking about the risks, the aftermaths. She'd told him what she wanted if she died, told him what to do, told him to live on. They'd talk about what she'd do if he died too, talked all the way to the end, even when she started crying.

So he's carrying on. Because he's Hibari, because he's Hibari _Kyoya,_ and because he's the Hibari Kyoya Izumi raised and Izumi raised him strong.

And he's an adult now, so he doesn't lose his temper or composure or grip on reality like that. Not like Tsunayoshi. Not like the herbivores. The loss of the arcobalenco will not stop him.

If he's harder on the training room, on his training partners, on the Gesso Famiglia members as a whole, if he's going for the kill more instead of concussions and broken limbs instead, well, he's seen the price of the alternative.

And if he crushes every single Mist-user in his path and makes sure to grind their rings and boxes to dust under his heel, well, he's always disliked illusionists. The pineapple pair are not exempt.

But it's been a long day and he's a little tired.

He goes to his office to take a nap.

xXXx

He wakes up in his office, except it isn't _his_ office anymore. Well, not really. It hasn't been his office in a long time.

He's in the Reception Room at Nami-Chu.

He doesn't tense up, doesn't start waving box weapons around, because he's an adult and he doesn't jump to conclusions anymore. Besides, Nami-Chu is safe. Izumi and the others have taken pains to ensure it. Sometimes he comes back to the Reception Room to use the couch he put in—the one he's lying on right now.

It's newer.

And he now he knows where he is. Or rather, _when._

There's no point trying to recall what caused the baby cow to use the bazooka or how it had hit him—he remembers how trigger-happy the idiot was with the thing ten years ago. All of them had been hit at least a dozen times at some point, and as good as he was, he couldn't avoid all of them. Especially once the weapon had been explained to him and he had relegated it to 'harmless' in his radar.

Not so harmless now.

"Kyoya? Are you in there? It's time for lunch!"

His breath doesn't hitch. He expected this the moment he realized when he was. His breath doesn't hitch and he doesn't take a step back.

The door creaks open.

He doesn't hide, because there's nothing to hide. Nothing to hide from either and it is just—he's fine, he can take it, he's strong. He won't deny that it will probably hurt but it's fine.

And it isn't his Izumi. She still has ten years to go and he has ten years on her.

"Oh! I knew I shouldn't have let Lambo play in here! He just got more ammunition from the Bovinos and keeps leaving the charges around. Luckily, they're all non-lethal, although Tsuna's still half-blind from the flash grenade in his room…"

He shrugs and looks at her blandly.

He can look at her because she isn't her. She's not as knowing, not as sharp, not at all like her really. He knows so much more than her, experienced so much more, that the gap is unbridgeable.

She's just another young woman.

She trails off, looking at him silently. He looks back calmly, leaning against the desk.

They wait silently for five minutes to pass.

It's not a short period of time, but it isn't long either. He's looking at her and that familiar face and he can see the woman she will be but she's not her yet and he has nothing to say to her. The past can't be changed, there's no point talking to her. He has nothing to say.

She puts the bento in her hands on the table and crosses her arms. He doesn't react.

They wait.

xXXx

Twenty three seconds left and she walks over and hugs him.

He freezes. He—okay, he freezes. He freezes because he's not used to strangers touching him. Izumi is— _was—_ fine and the rest of the Vongola Guardians occasionally pat him and he tolerates them but Izumi is— _was—_ the only one and so he freezes because he isn't used to it and he's…hugging…back.

She's already at the age she stopped growing, so she's the same height. She's been using the same shampoo for _ages_ and it was _so_ _difficult_ to keep getting supplies when the war started but she somehow managed it and he helped and there was that time he had to fight six platoons to buy it which was _ridiculous_ but he did it anyway and kept doing similar things because she'd smile at him. That smile she had just for him the one where her eyes sparkled and her face went from pretty to _gorgeous_ and…

Yeah, that smile.

Wait.

It's his smile—her smile— _their smile._ How does _she_ know it, she's too young to know it, she can't, because she's not his and she doesn't know him hasn't gone through ten years with him _how does she know it._

_Why is it the same?!_

Izumi at thirty-one was, physically, barely any different from Izumi at twenty-one. She had Hibari genes, which meant she remained youthful and beautiful, but also, thirty-one wasn't exactly old age. Not even middle age.

 _So young, so young, too young, why such a young woman barely in her prime she had so much going for her_.

He'd been prepared for that. Expected it. Faced it. He'd been fine with that. He had. But how was she _exactly the same?_ Shouldn't there be some missing air of experience, some look in their eyes, some change in her mannerisms?

_Keeping it together because he wasn't broken there was no need to keep together he_ _**was** _ _together but_ _**they** _ _weren't—It was fine he was strong and she knew he knew they knew they'd talked about this._

Their smile and her laugh and the protective look in her eyes even though he was an adult now was older than her he was _older than her_ and she wasn't his not his she didn't know him not him _not his to protect._

_Fourth funeral he's attended and now he has the complete set he's buried all his family MomDadGrandmaFonIzumi. They're blurring together he knows all the rites by heart she taught him then, that bright sunny day they met and he was alone and she'd found him and they'd carried Grandma to the temple and back in a box and then an urn and now there are five in the Hibari shrine. Fon's slightly apart because he wasn't really family but he moved him closer now becausebecause it was a waste of space and they were blood and Izumi had said that family's family and he didn't listen then but he should respect her wishes now because she was always right in the end._

His cheeks are wet he thought he didn't cry anymore hadn't cried at her funeral at all why was he crying now?

_Being calm and solemn and accepting well-wishes and condolences with proper decorum why did Tetsu keep looking at him like that he knows she's dead and he accepts that there's no problem he's sad she's gone but he's still alive. Oh for goodness' sake, Tsunayoshi and the rest of the herbivores doing their herbivorous thing and making sad eyes too. It's fine, he's fine, they can make sad eyes at her picture because she died but stop doing them to him because_ _**he** _ _is fine._

She's short as ever, barely coming under his chin and just as small in his arms and he has things to say he should warn her he should he needs to say it he needs to tell her—

—And she's gone in a puff like a dream and he's holding himself tightly like a scene from the movie she made him watch where the girl falls to her knees and cries to herself and he isn't going to do that because it's ridiculous he's a Hibari he's strong he—

—SHOULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING SHOULD HAVE WARNED HER WASTED TIME BEING STUPID SHOULD HAVE SAID SHOULD HAVE TOLD HER NOT TO—

And he's making his way to the training room holding himself he needs to keep it together— _going to vibrate out of his skin—_ needs to stay calm she's gone and he knows and he's fine they've talked about it— _should have said something should have warned her should have opened his stupid stupid mouth and said—_ nothing he can do now the future doesn't change how would she remember something ten years in the future— _should have tried at least and now…_

_Nothing._

He stumbles against the wall, braces his forehead against the cool brick. It's graceless, utterly shameful for a Hibari good thing there's nobody around to see.

His fist clenches, unclenches, clenches, and unclenches.

And then he straightens, face smooth.

Tsunayoshi thought he was being subtle when he asked the cow about the ten year bazooka. Sometimes Kyoya despaired of him ever learning. The baby—not baby any longer—had despaired of it before he died.

A few more pointed questions, some strange actions and looks and Kyoya already had the gist of his plan. The others are too busy wallowing in their loss to see what is in front of their faces and sometimes Kyoya wonders why he bothers to associate with them.

But he'd worked out the idiot's idea and scoffed.

_Grasping at straws, trying the impossible, never going to work. He ignores the herbivore's desperation because he will not stoop to that level. He's accepted things. Moved on. The past cannot be changed._

A crazy plan. An impossible plan.

_Should have said something but too late now. No more. Not again. He'd had a chance and lost it. This time, he'd_ _**make** _ _the chance and grasp it._

Not with him involved.


	8. Meat

"Izumi, read this!"

The sixteen year old blinked as a book was shoved under her nose. She scowled and looked up at her strangely excited ward, "Kyoya! I'm sewing here! I'm trying to fix the hole in your jacket. You know, the one you tore when you chased after that hooligan at Nami Shrine?"

The boy waved the book insistently, "Read it!"

"Kyoya!" She snapped, "Don't be rude! I could have pricked myself when you surprised me!"

With that, she turned away, grimly inspecting her seams. She didn't recall her mother ever snapping at her like that at 10, but her father had occasionally put her in her place when she was being too exuberant.

It didn't help that she was feeling upset that her ten-year-old ward had gone haring after a much brawnier teenager when she had been distracted. She knew the kid could take care of himself, but she'd hollered herself hoarse getting him to stop and the commotion had attracted a lot of unwanted attention. She hated being the parent who dragged her child home and to be honest she wasn't afraid of the crowd, but seeing Kyoya run off like that had put her heart in her mouth.

And her heart was plenty sore.

Kyoya tugged her sleeve.

"Go away, Kyoya," she gritted out, shrugging him off.

Her seams were uneven. She resisted the urge to toss the whole damned thing away and instead, started unpicking her work for the hundredth time. She wasn't very good at sewing, never had the need to practice, and frankly, hated it altogether. She ignored the leaning weight at her side as she started up again.

Truthfully, she knew she wasn't cut out for caring for a kid. She was bad-tempered, had little control over her emotions, and couldn't always separate herself from a situation in order to act maturely. The past few days had been wearing on her nerves, with the stress of working and chasing after Kyoya every time he spotted a delinquent. She knew she'd been lashing out at him, though thankfully she never went further than snapping, but it still made her despair for the future. It hadn't even been a month and she already couldn't stand things, how could they ever work out?

She heaved a sigh and pressed her palms to her burning eyes. She hated being pressured, hated stressing out over things, hated responsibility. And yet she had taken on all of that willingly. She'd _known_ that things wouldn't be easy, had _known_ that there would be problems and that she would probably want to pull her hair out.

But was this yet another instance of talk being cheap?

She wasn't going to quit this, wasn't going to let Kyoya go. The thought didn't bear thinking. But she needed a break. She didn't want to snap suddenly and do something irreparable.

Kyoya was a very difficult child. He was precocious and willful. He didn't listen to her unless she gave a good reason, didn't cede to her authority unless given explanation. So far she'd been doing well in that area, but he still found places to challenge her.

Like this issue with the delinquent-chasing. She couldn't say that it was too dangerous, because he had easily disposed of all his targets with an enviable efficiency. And he didn't listen when she simply told him not to. She could do without the bloody huge uproars each time too, but the thing about being ten and _Kyoya_ was that he didn't even notice and didn't _care_ when he did. And each time she forced him to go home and let the victim run off was a mark against her.

He was starting to distrust her.

She hated this. Hated the stalemate she had found herself in. She knew that he was going to keep fighting her on this issue, knew that she'd have to give in when she could no longer drag him away. By then, he'd see her as an enemy and she would have failed as his guardian. And _hell,_ she was still coming to terms with the fact that she was in for the long haul now.

She didn't want their relationship to break down from this, but it was still new, and thus fragile. To be honest, she'd been waiting for something like this to turn up because she hadn't trusted the smooth sailing they'd had so far.

She sighed again and draped her arm over him, putting the jacket aside and pulling him into her lap.

"I'm sorry," she told him, still aching and sore and angry, but sad enough to be sincere.

He was still holding onto his book loosely, and he twisted in her arms to look up at her face. The hurt was still present and suspicion warred with the trust he had for her. He ducked his head and mumbled an apology as well, finally relaxing into her hold.

Kissing his forehead, she took the book from him. It was a book on Japanese Idioms and sayings. The edges of it were frayed and the spine was cracked and slightly torn. It must belong to either his parents or his grandparents.

"What do you want me to read?" She cajoled, thumbing through the pages carefully. Kyoya was a smart child, but Kanji was difficult even for high school students, and old sayings were usually written in their original format, which was rather archaic.

"This one," he muttered, flipping several pages carelessly and jabbing.

She peered at it and scowled.

_Jaku Niku Kyo Shoku._

Literally: The weak are meat, the strong eat.

Already, Izumi could feel her blood boil. This was definitely not what she wanted her ward to be reading. It wasn't what she wanted _any child_ to be reading. Sometimes she wondered what was going on in the minds of the Hibari family.

Biting her lip, she read the words as neutrally as she could. It wasn't a saying she agreed with, but it was one that had been around for many years. It was even a _Buddhist_ saying, which she felt was in juxtaposition to the general sentiment of love and forgiveness.

Then again, Buddhism was also about karmic retribution. She rolled her eyes and gave up understanding religion. Sometimes things just don't make sense.

"So?" Kyoya nudged her. When he asked her to 'read' something, it usually meant a narration _and_ explanation.

"Give me a minute," she murmured, rolling the words in her head. The basic meaning was survival of the fittest, which was okay in her book, but the _way_ it was said…she _really_ didn't like it.

"Okay," she nodded, "It means that the strongest will succeed. So it tells people to strive to be strong if they want to succeed."

He nodded, but then frowned, "What about the part about the weak? What's meat got to do with it? And why would the strong eat them?"

"Remember what I told you about figurative speech?"

"Yeah. You said some people use words that don't mean exactly what they say. That they're using an example to compare and describe it so that it's clearer," He scrunched his nose up, "But why meat?"

"Well…" she paused, "I think that the saying was created in olden times, around the time that there were wars and people were poor and there was always fighting. So the people who were strong had power and they had food to eat, while the people who were weak died. Success in those days meant survival."

"Oh…" he pondered, "But then, why call the weak meat? Did they _eat_ them? Like the dinosaurs on TV?"

"No!" she exclaimed, "Definitely not! It's a saying. There's a deeper meaning to that. It meant that the weak served as stepping stones for the strong to succeed."

"So the strong stepped on the weak to succeed?"

The conversation was spiraling out of her hands, she realized. And the inevitable conclusion was exactly the one she didn't want. She tried to salvage things, "No no. You know that when you have a competition, that people have to try and defeat each other, right?"

"Yeah?"

"So when two people compete, only one will be the victor, right?"

"…Yeah?"

"So the victor will be the one who is stronger. The loser is the weaker one. But you can't know who's stronger until they compete, right?"

"…Yeah."

"So…the only way to know who is stronger, to win the competition and succeed, is to go up against an opponent. Maybe that opponent is stronger, maybe he is weaker, but it is only through competing that you will know your strength and thus, succeed. So in this way, the loser is aiding the victor in proving his strength. That's why he is a 'stepping stone'."

"Oh…" Kyoya furrowed his brow and mulled over her explanation. "So this saying means that to succeed, I have to be a meat-eater?"

Izumi chuckled, "Well, that's one way of putting it. I hope you don't _actually_ eat them, though."

The face he made at the thought was reassuring. "So I'll have to be a car-carni…carnivore?"

"Yep."

There was a thoughtful look on his face as he collected his book and went back to his room.

xXXx

Izumi tried not to giggle as Kyoya called another boy 'meat'. The poor kid looked rather traumatized and probably thought that he was actually going to be eaten. The trend had been going on for a while now and she wondered when her ward would finally quit.

Surprisingly, the act of calling himself a 'carnivore' didn't particularly invoke any terrified squealing. It was probably because elementary school students didn't usually know what it meant. Strangely, this didn't deter Kyoya, as he seemed to enjoy saying a word that nobody else understood.

Maybe she could use that…

Beckoning him away from his victim, she sat down and chuckled. They'd come to an accord about his delinquent-chasing. He would notify her of his target and they would discreetly corner him, Izumi watching in as he went about his righteous business.

She still wasn't exactly sure about the propriety of allowing a ten year old child to beat up teenagers and grown-ass men, but there didn't seem to be any danger, at least. And she had to admit that they were deserving of the injuries.

Of course, when he was done, she made sure to employ her own skills to ensure that they did not seek revenge. Kyoya knew how to fight, but she had learnt all the dirty points of disabling an opponent. That included making injuries _permanent._ If anyone ever tried to attack them, she wouldn't stop with just bruises.

So unless they wanted to be paralyzed for the rest of their lives, they knew well to steer clear of revenge.

"You should stop calling people 'meat', Kyoya," she chided, looking over at the cowering boy pityingly. Most of the children actually _liked_ her—they smiled up at her when she fetched Kyoya from school and everything. She'd given sweets to some of them before, sometimes in apology to her ward's behavior.

Kyoya wasn't a bully, but he didn't discriminate between victims either. As long as one did something 'wrong', one got a tonfa to the gut.

"They're meat," he insisted, "I'm the carnivore and they're the meat."

She resisted the urge to facepalm. "Do you _want_ to eat them? You're already saying that you'll bite them to death, and if you call them 'meat' too…they think you want to eat them."

He twisted his face in disgust, "I don't want to do that!"

"Then why don't you…" she thought furiously, "call them something else!"

"But they're meat, the book said so!" He scowled. It wasn't as pronounced, which meant he didn't want to further the misunderstanding either.

She wracked her brains, "What about plant-eaters?" She brightened as the idea took form, "Yeah! Remember the dinosaur show? There were meat-eaters and plant-eaters, right?"

"Hn…" he frowned thoughtfully, "Herbivores?"

"Yep," she grinned, "Wow, you remembered such a big word!"

He preened a little and nodded, "Okay. Herbivore." He tested the word out several times, making sure he said it properly.

Izumi breathed a sigh of relief. No more parents complaining about traumatized children!

xXXx

**Omake**

"What's this word?" Kyoya asked his guardian. She'd gotten him a new dinosaur book and they'd described the herbivores and carnivores and something else.

"That's omnivore," she told him, "It means to eat both meat and plants. Sort of like a mix of a carnivore and an herbivore."

He was confused, "Are there people like that?"

She understood that he meant the 'allegory' he had been using (that was a new word she taught him), "Sure. There are many different types of people. I guess if you were to describe an omnivore it'd be someone who wins and loses sometimes. Or chooses to not to eat 'meat' all the time."

"Why would anyone not eat all the time?" The idea was ridiculous, who wouldn't want to succeed every time?

She shrugged, "When you think about it. Every time you compete with someone, you make that person your opponent. Because there's a struggle, most of the time the person is your enemy. some people don't want to make enemies. So they choose not to 'eat'."

"But that'd make them the 'meat'!" He protested.

"You'd think so, huh?" She smirked secretively, "Life isn't all struggles. Not everything is a competition. But that's something you'll only understand when you're older." She smiled when he glared, "But a person who has the strength but chooses not to fight is pretty rare. For now, just stick to the first definition I gave you."

"Hn."

"And eat your vegetables. You may be a carnivore but in this, you _will_ follow the scientific term."

"… _Hn."_


	9. TYL Izumi's Death

The thing about Izumi is that she isn't gifted. She isn't gifted, isn't a genius, isn't particularly skilled in anything. She learnt how to fight late in her life, she's not a child prodigy with every reflex carved into the bone. Her shooting is good, but being a good shot is a dime a dozen in the upper echelons of the mafia world. Hiroto-san said her best weapon was her mind, but that is true for any person of worth here.

So she has no advantage at all.

That's why she is paranoid. Yes, she knows she is. Kyoya often complains, but the truth is: she has survived as long as she has because of her over-preparedness. She's been through nearly fifteen years in the underworld and come out on top because of this one trait that she has strove to turn into a natural part of her daily life.

And what little strength she has, what little edge she can get, she hones into a fine, fine blade.

She's a Sky Flame. Also a Cloud, but mainly a Sky.

Kyoya's very proud of that—that his big sister has the 'leader' of the flames as well as a secondary that he shares.

She's just happy to have another tool to use to protect him.

Everyone seems to think it makes her special. Her unique way of using them 'ingenious'. Her utmost control, her deft touch a natural, God-given _gift._

They think that that is what has given her that famed insight that has foiled and continued to foil Byakuran's plans. They think it's the secret behind her success, the main core of her power.

Izumi is sure that she would be much less effective without her flames, but truthfully? She plans everything as if she were utterly weak, as if the worst-case scenario was the only viable one. She can carry out every single plan she has made with flames and without.

Almost every single person in the mafia thinks that 'flames' are what makes a strong person. Even Kyoya thought that his flame was so important. Those without flames are rubble, the cannon fodder.

She doesn't understand all that.

It's in the description of the flames themselves. They are the _dying will_ of a person. It is not the flame that makes the person, it is the person that makes the flame. She doesn't give a damned if someone can spontaneously set fire to themselves if they can't think themselves out of a shoebox. That's why her squad is made up of flame-users and non-flame-users. Also, the word 'cloud' may be in their squad, but if she ever meets the people who came up with same-flame squads, she will kiss them because while she has cured Vongola of that notion, Millefiore continues to use it.

Nobody has jeered at her squad since their first mission.

So even without the flames—or not 'even' but just 'without them'—she is still Hibari-Tojita _Izumi_ and she will keep protecting what is precious to her.

Which is Kyoya. In the end, everything comes back to Kyoya. She doesn't care if she has to tear apart the world, the heavens, or hell to keep him safe. She doesn't care if she has to make friends with people who make her skin crawl or go up against someone who could squash her like a bug. She doesn't give a damned if her body feels like it will give up any day.

As long as some part of her exists in this world, she will keep fighting. For Kyoya.

xXXx

The message they've received is ominous.

It makes her sixth sense ping and chills keep running down her spine. One of their bases has been overrun and they've managed to hack into the database of the entire Vongola network just before the tech team shut them down. So far, most of the information had been corrupted before they'd reached enemy hands, but some very dangerous knowledge had been taken.

One of them is Kyoya's patrol routes.

Kyoya and the Discipline Committee act as a separate entity to the main Vongola. Indeed, they make up the new generation of CEDEF corps that will in time fully take over Lal Mirch and Colonello's old framework. One of the reasons why they have not already taken over is because they are too limited in experience as well as being based mostly in Japan. That will change when more members are recruited and when some of the senior members learn, at the very least, how to speak Italian.

Still, Namimori has become a major base for the tenth generation, seeing as almost all the guardians hail from the small town. Because of this, there have been several rotations of patrols by both Vongola and CEDEF.

However, Kyoya's routes are unique.

Izumi, herself, had taken a week together with Fon to come up with a schedule that was especially difficult to crack. Predictability was death in their world, and with the war on, more so. But every part of Namimori had to be inspected regularly or they'd risk losing ground. Kyoya was one of the Vongola's Guardians—the _strongest_ one to boot. And he was very familiar with Namimori's geography, having guarded it since his youth.

It was an easy choice.

Sometimes Izumi resented how heavily the Vongola relied on her son. Every single guardian was swamped with work, but Kyoya more so. Being strong and capable of command _and_ having his own private network meant that a lot of the Decimo's own duties were discharged to him. For all that Gokudera-Storm was his right-hand man, it was Hibari-Cloud who was _second in command._

Strongest, smartest, sharpest, and most charismatic, her boy was the one people turned to when Decimo was unavailable. It made her proud, but so very, very resentful.

She'd channeled that resentment into destroying their enemies. It was her idea to resort to guerilla warfare even before the war swung in the Gesso's favour, utilizing their familiarity with their home ground as effectively as possible.

Oh, it was Millefiore, now. Tsunayoshi had been devastated to learn of the Giglio Nero's defection—she'd simply taken it in stride and transferred the names onto the hitlist.

They couldn't afford to be merciful in war. They couldn't afford pity, disbelief and whatever else that would stay their hand and give the enemy that crucial window to strike. Of all the squads, it had been the Cloud squad, especially her own Black Cloud Strike Squadron, who had not hesitated to go in for the kill.

Sometimes it was a thing of pride, how clearly her teams reflected her own values.

It was that very same former ally who had allowed the team that had broken into that base to steal their information. It was always the ones closest to you who hit the hardest, and Giglio Nero had been one of their closest allies. Millefiore was started by the Gesso White Spell, but much of their success against Vongola had been built on their Black Spell and their previous familiarity with Vongola.

Part of the reason why her _Black_ Cloud squad had been named thus was her determination to root out every single traitor.

(The other reasons varied: Her sadism that surpasses the typical Hibari's, her lack of mercy, her work on the 'darker side' of the mafia, her blackmailing skills…)

And now they had Kyoya's patrol routes. The ones she'd painstakingly worked out with an elaborate formula that had taken seven whole days to create. The one that was now useless. She wasn't sure if she could replicate the feat again even with help.

There was only one solution to this.

She had to stop them from getting the information to Millefiore.

One of the greatest inventions Verde had created outside of the Box Weapons was a system jammer that shut down every _targeted_ electronic device within a fixed radius. It had been a miracle—destroying the enemy's communications while leaving theirs untouched. It was this device that had prevented immediate transfer of information while giving her enough time to receive the news, grab her gear, and set out.

She'd sent out the order to her teams as well, but there was no time.

Not when Kyoya was in danger.

xXXx

Mist Flames. She despised Mist flames.

Deceptive people. She didn't mind deception but Mist people were a different breed. Living in their lies and their stories and their twisted view of the world. Trying to twist others with their cunning words.

Illusions everywhere and her senses tingling wildly but not pure, not clear enough to see through every projection.

She'd always known she wasn't gifted.

Standing in front of the compromised base, flames fanning out in a ring of fire.

Damned if a single one of them walked out alive.

Firing off one last message for Kyoya—dictated everything to the messenger to write down. Sending the order to stand down, get back to base, it's a trap. Pointing out the rat that had gotten behind their lines.

Six teams of Millefiore Mist—all for little old her. Some assorted Rains and Storms to slow her down and counter her Propagation. And a couple Suns to support their big damned army. Unsurprisingly, they had learnt not to pit their Clouds against her.

Breathe in.

Izumi meant Spring. Not the season, but the pool. Also, Fountain. In traditional context, a source of water that gives life to its surroundings. She'd never been able to live up to her name, not with the lives she had taken.

Perhaps she was a pool that drowned instead.

Breathe out.

"You people are getting out of here _over my dead body."_

She'd always known that this would be the death of her.


	10. Openmindedness

Tsuna will never forget the day his Rain Guardian declared that he was gay.

Or, well. Not so much 'declare' as commented matter-of-factly over breakfast while passing the syrup. And then he had leaned over to the Cloud Guardian lounging beside him and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Tsuna wasn't sure which was the bigger heart attack. He's sure he lost half his lifespan to the shock but he'd been a little too busy trying to breathe to, you know, compare.

Also: Hibari-san hadn't protested the kiss. In fact, he was right calm about it, as if he spent his everyday life kissing Yamamoto over breakfast.

Cue third aneurysm.

The triple attack had been too much. He'd promptly fallen off his chair to go into convulsions.

Gokudera suffocated on his cereal and Mukuro turned a distinctive shade of green over his beloved waffles. Ryohei had to do a self-Heimlich because everybody else had their own problems. Even the usually placid Chrome had a decidedly disturbed look on her face as she bit into her sugar cookies, while Lambo simply jumped around asking why two boys were kissing.

He's going to ignore that last part. No way is _he_ going to be the one explaining homosexual relationships to Lambo.

Reborn had paused in the midst of drinking his espresso, his first cup of the day.

(That was the equivalent of collapsing in fits for him.)

Izumi-san took the bottle of syrup and merrily squeezed a generous serving over her pancakes.

That was the moment his hyperintuition kicked his brain back online.

"I-Izumi-san?" Tsuna stuttered, sending her an addition look of "?!" just in case she had, you know, missed the question.

The woman who had raised The Prefect of Namimori merely raised one elegant brow and dug into her meal with gusto. As usual, she wouldn't be revealing anything until she was well and ready. The Vongola tenth generation took that time to recovered from their collective fits.

(Mukuro's jaw was still distinctly unhinged. Tsuna suspected he was thinking of all the times he had challenged the prefect and the new light this discovery was shading everything in. Personally, Tsuna had always thought the tension between the two had been rather suspect.)

"I brought Kyoya up to be open-minded," Hibari Izumi- _sama_ announced loftily as she bit into her pancakes. Tsuna had the sudden old urge to drop to his knees and gibber for mercy. However, thanks to Reborn's training, he managed to overcome it.

Instead, the Vongola Decimo went through a series of twitches and sputtering (weirdly in tune with his right-hand man) before he threw his hands up and shrieked, "That's a lot more than just _open-minded!"_

Of course, that triggered another explosive (in one case literally) reaction from the rest of his friends.

(Reborn had resumed sipping his coffee while waiting patiently for the answer to turn up. As long as one was observant enough—and he definitely was—everything would become apparent in time.)

Hibari-san just ate his sushi.

xXXx

Takeshi was a little cheered by the reactions of his family. He'd been worried about their acceptance at his coming out, but their reactions were turning out on the positive side of the list Izumi had given him.

She'd been right! They really were his friends!

Hahaha!

He'd have to thank again Hibari for letting him kiss him as proof. Izumi had said it was better to prove his sexuality via demonstration so that there was no confusion. After all, Gokudera was prone to overthinking, and Ryohei was just a tad oblivious.

He grinned as he exchanged looks with Izumi.

xXXx

_Before The Breakfast…_

"Kyoya, will you help Takeshi-kun in this?" Izumi asked, the look in her eyes making it clear it was not actually a request.

He gave his guardian an exasperated glare. In reply, she flicked her eyes at the platter of sushi Yamamoto had brought.

Yamamoto-san's sushi was indeed top-notch. Kyoya had never been able to resist it.

He glared at the sushi, then at the puppy-dog eyes in his face, and in the end, looked up at the ceiling and grumbled.

At least the look on the herbivores' faces would be amusing.

(Of course, he knew that she'd already set up the cameras.)

xXXx

_Ten years later…_

"Kyoya! Remember this? It was your first gay kiss!"

"I _knew it."_


	11. Piggyback

The moment Izumi realized that she had to look up when she wanted to meet Kyoya's eyes was the day Kyoya realized that his sister was actually insane.

Another thing he realized was that he had been harboring a childhood wish before this.

The _last_ thing he realized was that he was very upset, but completely unsurprised, that she had found a way to ruin even this simple childhood wish of his.

How he thought things would be:

Izumi would discover that he was now a man in his own right and stop mothering over him as well as treat with the respect he deserved.

How things actually went:

Izumi gave him a shark-like grin, dropped the cake batter in her hand and slung one arm around his neck to swing the rest of her on his back. When she landed, Kyoya felt himself huff involuntarily even as he adjusted to the added weight on his back, hands hooking under her thighs by reflex.

Behind him, he could hear Kusakabe's brain screech to a halt.

"Kyoya!" his insane guardian chirped in his ear merrily, bumping her foot against his shin in the same manner one spurred a horse.

"You're insane," He growled, failing at the deadpanned tone he had been striving for. He wasn't too disappointed at that. It seems that everything he does fails in the face of Izumi's…everything.

The twenty-year-old woman simply tightened her hold on his neck and kicked him again.

Grumbling, he hefted her up so that she wasn't in danger of sliding off—at least she wasn't heavy.

Not that he was going to tell her that.

"You're _heavy."_

Quite the opposite actually.

The indignant shriek so close to his ear had him wincing. The crazy woman actually dug a hand into his hair and _pulled._

He most definitely did not yelp.

"You insane woman!" He tossed his head, debating the merits of headbutting her in the nose. Instead, he freed a hand and slapped her thigh, "Let go!"

"I'm _not_ fat," Izumi snarled, giving his head a brief shake before releasing his abused scalp. In the next moment, she was patting the standing ends down carefully and a little apologetically.

The things he put up with…

A thump caught both their attentions, he swiveled so they could see—Oh. Kusakabe was out cold on the floor.

The sigh he had been resisting released itself, " _What_ did you do this for?"

The pout was audible, "You're taller than me now, so I wanna piggyback!"

"You've got functioning legs of your own," he retorted, having given up on understanding her train of thought. Sometimes it was best to just let her be.

Despite that, his legs began moving of their own accord.

"…Did you get into the sugar again?" he sighed, suddenly recalling the cake batter, which had been the reason he had entered the kitchen. It wasn't his birthday, it wasn't her birthday, and Izumi only ever baked when she was _very_ stressed. And cake was on the distressed end of the scale.

"…Maybe," his guardian buried her face in his collar and whimpered. It was an odd sound to hear from her, but sugar overdose always made her mind regress.

He sighed again, "What was the problem?"

"Do you think I'm a bad parent?"

 _Kami,_ it was _that_ again.

Kyoya rolled his eyes, "Weren't you the one who told me not to listen to what other people said?"

"That's because the other kids are _stupid._ And you don't listen to them anyway. 'Cept that punk who actually _dared_ to talk about your grandmother, the _moron,_ " A small surge of killing intent, _"_ But this is _different._ They're parents themselves so they should know what's right and—"

"—And if they were so right then their children wouldn't be so stupid," he finished, pointedly. He knew that it wasn't the actual problem, just the one she was focusing on in her gloom. The last few days had been rough on her, having that disastrous meeting with the Yamaguchi-gumi and having to keep calm around the handsy bastard of a branch leader. In addition, the Momokyokai had not paid their fees and visiting them was always vexing because the members were chauvinist pigs.

He was going to pay a 'visit' to them as well.

It was times like this that he remembered Hiroto's warning about her being young. Sometimes she just needed affirmation that she was doing things right, even if it had to be from the ward she was bringing up. In some ways, he guess he was taking care of her just as much as she took care of him.

He looked back at the mess in the kitchen and decided to go for a walk in the gardens.

xXXx

"I'm proud of you, you know," Izumi finally murmured as they finished circling the house a second time.

"I know," he muttered back, gazing at the Sakura tree they were passing. It was spring now, and so it was in full-bloom, the magenta covering the branches with not a single green in sight. Izumi had showered it with care and tenderness, and the last four years had seen it in the best condition it'd been since he could remember.

"I'm glad you like school and that the teachers don't dare to give you a hard time," she giggled, "I'm glad that the yakuza finally smartened up and stopped challenging us. I'm… _happy."_ She seemed surprised as she repeated, "I'm happy that I'm here. Right now. With you."

"You're being ridiculously sentimental," he grumbled.

She kissed his hair, "I'm so… _thankful_ I found you. You found me. I found…" she tousled his already messy hair in her _thankfulness,_ "I'm so glad to be here." She rubbed her cheek against his, "Aren't you?"

The sugar was turning her into a happy fool.

He let her slide off his back gently, "Let's get you to your room. Sugar is like alcohol to you when you take too much."

She pouted up at him from the grass, making grabby hands at his neck, "Carry meee."

A really happy fool.

Rolling his eyes, he scooped her up bridal-style, "Hmph."

xXXx

When she was finally settled into her futon, he sat down on his usual place beside it, playing with the long raven locks that he had refused to let her cut.

She already knew his answer anyway.


	12. Purple Tonfa of Doooooom

Izumi wasn't sure if she was hallucinating or dreaming. Either one was a crappy option though, and it didn't help that she was already feeling upset.

She eyed Kyoya's purple _burning_ tonfas with extreme prejudice before looking up incredulously.

"What…the heck is this?"

Her ward stared back with his version of puppy-eyes. Which meant that he glowered at her half-heartedly (which by normal people standards was throwing daggers) and scowled.

And sulked.

Fifteen years old and she still hadn't cured him of the sulking. For all that he preached the Hibari name, he never really did observe it as obsessively as he prided himself to. It was partly her fault, but ever since she convinced him to cut himself some slack he'd gone from staunchly enforcing every rule to sneakily looking for loopholes and now to outright rewriting. Sadly, Thou Shalt Not Pout and Sulk had become 'except with family' under Hibari law.

At least he'd stopped doing it in public after that big embarrassment. Really, it wasn't as if she'd purposefully gone to his school to check up on him! It had been an invitation from the principal!

…Whom she was blackmailing, but meh, details…

"I'm serious, Kyoya," she stated, hands on her hips, "What the _heck_ is that and how are you doing it?"

"…It's a Dying Will Flame."

"Dying Will…? Wait. _Dying_ Will?!" She zeroed in on the word in alarm, "What do you mean _dying will,_ are you _dying?_ Your medical tests came back fine the other day—you're healthy as a horse! A horse that could _fly._ What do you mean _dying will?!_ "

Heaving a sigh with all the exasperated force of a teenager, Hibari Kyoya raised his tonfas placatingly, "I'm _fine,_ Izumi. It's not really a 'dying' flame. It's a power that I have when I get pissed off."

"What do you mean pissed off? Excuse me young man! Are you getting pissed off at _me_ right now? …And that sounds like really hinky stuff… You sure it's safe? And why call it 'dying will' if it isn't really one?"

The Head Prefect of Namimori Middle, the town's strongest protector, heir of the Hibari Family, rolled his eyes, "I don't have to _keep_ being pissed off. And it's _fine._ It makes me _stronger._ And I can make things with it." He multiplied his tonfa by a dozen and gestured, "See?"

" _Really_ hinky stuff…"

He resisted the urge to facepalm and dismissed his flames. He waited. Ten…Nine…Eight…

"So how do I learn it?"

Kyoya bared his teeth and just barely avoided rubbing his hands in glee, "Well…this is what I had to do…"

It was finally time to get payback for all the terror Izumi had put him through…

"By the way, is the purple an indication of something…?"


	13. Tsuna's Hie

Death Mountain was a fairly unique landmark of Namimori's. It had actually been an active volcano some hundreds of years prior to the conception of Japan, which was yet another century or so before Namimori came to being. Thus, the intimidating mountain's name was one of the few that pre-dated its town. It was also covered in a dense forest that was strangely more tropical than appropriately temperate, and habituated by a wide variety of wildlife.

Mostly: apex predators.

Of course, all that information was not going to help them survive the night in the forest.

Izumi stared at the cave in front of her, and then back to the cheerful boy by her side. She repeated the action, wondering if he had ever been through any survival classes.

"Yamamoto-kun," she pronounced slowly, "this is a _wolf_ cave."

"Ahahahahaha!" The boy replied merrily, "Is that so?"

Stiffly, she gestured at the scratch marks at the edge of the cave, the scat that still contained recognizable pieces of a monkey, and the fur-covered cave floor.

At least the boy was quick on the uptake.

Not so quick on changing his ill-thought decision.

Instead, he unslung the sushi knife at his hip and merrily stepped into the cave.

Izumi opened her mouth. Then closed it. And then…

A hair-raising howl left the mouth of the cave. It was the middle of the freaking day and she could still feel her arms break out in goosebumps.

She opened her mouth. Then closed it as Yamamoto the wolf-sushi chef stepped out, dragging three bodies along and whistling merrily.

"Izumi-san!" He beamed, "Do you think we could eat them?"

 _Ah,_ Izumi thought. _So he's like_ _ **that.**_

And then, _I know how to deal with that._

She closed her eyes for a moment. A moment later, she returned the smile, just as shine-worthy as his, "Of course, kid! Just let me set things up! We'll have wolf stew tonight!"

"Hahaha! Sounds great!"

"Mhmm…oh, make sure to clean the knife at that river we passed by. I'll need it to cut the wolf up—have you learnt how to skin an animal?"

"Well, pops taught me how to skin all the fish we had, but I've never skinned something with fur…"

"That's okay! I'll teach you!"

"Hahaha! Alright, Izumi-san!"

"Alright, now I just need you to gather a few things to cook it with…"

"Sure!"

xXXx

Izumi surveyed their campsite with satisfaction. They had a fire, a spit, and dinner roasting merrily over it. There were some good sized rocks they had rolled over to serve as stools, and she'd managed to sharpen their precious sushi knife when it got chipped cutting up firewood. Thank goodness Yamamoto kept all his tools in good shape as per his father's teachings.

"I think I'll be able to catch fish tomorrow," she chirped as she turned the seasoned meat over. They'd found some herbs and, miraculously, a salt deposit by the river. She made some plans to turn the leftover wolf meat into strips of jerky to keep, as well as the fur into some kind of carrier.

Wolf fur was plenty durable, but she'd had to wash it several times to get the…nature out of it. She _really_ didn't want to know what the wolf had rolled in to cause that _smell._ She was pretty sure she'd killed several fish trying to get rid of the stuff matted into the fur.

Thank goodness she had a sewing kit on her. She wasn't quite sure what she'd have done if she'd had to grind a needle out of a stone and hunt for a suitable plant with strong enough fiber.

Well, the needle would still have to be ground down, but it wouldn't be _her_ doing it, and the fiber would have to come from a certain smiley someone's clothes…

xXXx

"HIEEEE!"

Izumi blinked and rubbed her eyes. Beside her, Yamamoto turned in his sleep to face her.

She nudged him with her foot.

He grunted.

She nudged him again.

A hand shot out to catch her by the ankle. She groaned, but leaned over to tap him on the shoulder, "Ya-ma-mo-to-kun."

No verbal reply. Instead, the boy decided to drag the rest of her hostage leg down until he was hugging her thigh. She inwardly thanked herself for wearing shorts today instead of skirts or—Kami forbid—her usual yukata.

"Oi!" She shook him again, "Wake up."

"Gnuh."

"Yamamoto-kun! UP!"

"Meh."

Izumi sighed. She'd been trying to avoid this…

"You asked for it, boyo," She muttered as she reached over and twisted his ear around viciously. There was a startled yelp like she'd kicked a puppy and then she was ducking to avoid a blow to her head. She swept his feet, but he hopped over and offered a kick of his own to her face. (Why did he keep targeting her beautiful face?)

She caught his ankle this time and dragged it up so he was upside-down. Then, before he could react, she shook him like a disobedient pet.

If his head bumped the ground a few times, it wasn't her fault.

After another yelp and some flailing, Yamamoto was awake and as cheerfully upbeat as usual, barring the fact that he was still hanging by his ankle.

"What's up, Izumi-san?"

She snorted, "I just heard Tsuna's hie."

"Oh! Okay, let's go!"

xXXx

"So how did you find us, Izumi-san?" The short brunette asked his savior nervously after Dino-nii's turtle had been subdued.

"I followed your hie."

"My…hie?"

"Your hie. Look where you're going, you're going to trip."

"HIEE!"


	14. Creepy Sad Families

Attending this year's Freshman Day was laughingly easy. The principal already knew her well enough (as well as the secrets she held) to simply assure her into a front-row seat in the auditorium.

Sometimes it really paid to know all the underground gossip.

Sometimes it really paid to _own_ the local underground.

Besides, with a principal dabbling in things like _that,_ Izumi was rightfully concerned with what the teachers here could get up to. After all, she only had the one son and she was not going to wait until something had already happened before she acted.

Best to nip things in the bud. And the best position to do so was right at the front.

Kyoya hadn't been very pleased to see her when he went to do the Discipline Committee Speech. Again. You'd think that he'd be used to it after she'd come the past two years but apparently hope sprang eternal. Amazingly, he'd managed to be even more intimidating than the previous year and several of the girls and boys burst into tears. Oh dear.

That didn't really bode well for his future. Really, what a troublesome son to make her worry like this…

"What a considerate person!"

…Had she actually heard that right?

Izumi was well-practiced enough in subtlety that she did not need to turn fully to identify the young girl who had exclaimed that. The (absurd) outburst had come from a young girl with honey colored locks and a gentle innocence that would definitely have all the boys clamoring for her attention. This was on top of the large doe-eyes and roundish face that emphasized her baby-faced charm.

Apparently looks really did match personality sometimes.

Izumi was very proud of her ward. She was always the first to profess support and the first to defend him from accusations. She had single-handedly gone up against Nami-Chu's board of directors when they had first objected to his admission into the school.

However, she was, first and foremost, a very honest person. She did not believe in self-delusion _at all._

So she was having a little difficulty believing this young girl's proclamation on her son's _considerate_ nature, of all things.

She noted the girl's face and decided to search her name and keep her in mind.

xXXx

Something was wrong with the Sawada family.

Kyoya had come by complaining about how one Sawada Tsunayoshi was stinking up Nami-Chu's good name by being—not rebellious, not perverted, not violent—plain _no good._ The most irksome part being that he had no valid reason to bite the younger boy to death despite how phenomenally _annoying_ he was.

Izumi spent several minutes laughing in his face before calming down enough to remember where she'd heard the name before.

And then she spent the next few scowling sourly.

Sawada Tsunayoshi was the little boy who had become somewhat famous a few years back for being completely lacking in grace. The housewives had commented on him in that condescending, pitying tone they reserved for children less able than theirs. He'd been held up as the prime example of a total letdown and it had become a common excuse for children to tell their parents "at least I'm not as bad as Dame-Tsuna".

She'd remembered meeting the boy and thinking that there had been a light there that had been snuffed out. The boy had a decent personality and good heart, but he'd been trodden on so much there'd hardly been anything left in the aftermath. He'd been on his way to becoming a near-zombie—mindless and bland and rotted. If this had been the underworld she'd have expected to find him one morning on top of the trash.

She'd remembered wondering where his parents were. Wondered what the hell his mother was doing, and where the hell his father had skulked off to. Apparently the man used to come by a few times every year, although not in recent years, if the rumor mill was correct.

Izumi looked at Kyoya, seeing how strong he had grown. How confident and smart and strong.

Her boy was ready to spread his wings now. She could ease off a little.

Perhaps she'd take a look at the Sawada family instead.

xXXx

The first inklings she got, she got the moment she stepped into the front yard. The house was neatly kept—almost perfect in its cozy, homely way.

The lawn was well-trimmed and someone had planted primroses in neat little rows. Both white and yellow camellia bushes blossomed at the borders.

Overall, the resulting scenery was beautiful.

Izumi threaded lightly all the way to the door.

Within two seconds of ringing the bell, the door was pulled open and she was greeted with a brilliant smile from Sawada Nana, mother of Sawada Tsunayoshi. The smile seemed to blink once before a look of confusion crossed the woman's face.

She blinked as well, "Hello, I'm Hibari Izumi, pleased to meet you."

"Pleased to meet you, dear," the woman beamed in reply, "I'm Nana, but you can call me Mama!"

Again, Izumi blinked. Slowly.

"I'll settle for Sawada-san," she stated firmly, "I was just wondering about your son—"

"Oh!" Nana's gasped. Her face seemed to wink out again and then she was bowing and smiling apologetically, "I'm so sorry for what my son has done. He's such a clumsy, useless child that I really have no idea what to do with him. If only he could be manly like his father!"

Oh. Izumi blinked again. Several times, in fact. She tilted her head and nodded, "That's fine. I was just hoping to understand him better and perhaps find a solution to his problems in school. Is his father around too?"

"Iemitsu is very busy," Nana announced proudly, "He works in a construction company. He's so manly and works so hard for us!"

"Oh," she said for lack of a better word, slightly taken aback, "That must be difficult."

The older woman shook her head, "Oh no, we're doing very well, actually. If only Tsu-kun could be livelier. He's always so dull these days, and he used to be so cute!"

"Oh," was her blank reply, "I'm sure." She shook her head to remove the daze, "I'd just like to ask if you know if he has any trouble in school?"

"Well," the housewife sighed, "He's not very clever and can't keep up with the lessons at school. He nearly failed to graduate from elementary school and he's always playing games instead of studying. I just wish he could enjoy life more! You know, like 'I'm alive' and 'wow'!"

 _What does that have anything to do with studies?_ Izumi wondered. "What about his school life? His friends or clubs? Do you think he might be having problems getting along with his peers?"

Nana put a hand on her cheek in disappointment, "Oh my, Tsu-kun doesn't have any friends and he's not in any clubs. He's such a useless child…And he's so timid that he can barely talk to anyone! I worry so much about that boy…"

"Perhaps he just needs some guidance…?" She suggested apprehensively, unsure if she wanted to hear the reply this time. If she said 'useless' again…

"Oh, what a great idea!" Nana exclaimed, "I'll hire a home tutor! I saw this ad in the mail just this morning! Oh, thank you so much! I'll do that right away!"

There was a flurry of footsteps as the woman disappeared into the house.

"But that's _not_ what he needs…" Izumi hissed viciously under her breath, glaring at the primroses.

"Oh!" Nana raced back, a delicately wrapped paper bag in hand, "I made some cookies! Have some!"

"But we haven't talked about…" she broke off as the woman disappeared. She stared after her through the still-open doorway, wondering if she would return again. Several minutes later, it was apparent that she would not.

She looked at the bag of cookies in her hands. They were beautifully decorated and broke crunchily between her fingers. The bag itself was a pretty little handmade thing.

On the way out of the picture-perfect house, she threw it into a bin.

xXXx

Going to the Sasagawa house was a similar experience. Kyoya had been complaining about his boxing-obsessed peer since the start of school. Amusingly, he was the same type of unpunishable annoyance that Sawada was, albeit on the other side of the enthusiasm spectrum.

The house she arrived at was a designer's dream.

It was on the wealthier side of town, although not in the same place as the old families. This part was new, having been built only five years ago. The houses here were of a more modern design as well.

There were yellow tulip buds sprouting in small pots near the entrance, and white and yellow camellias around the border.

Knocking on the door because she couldn't find the doorbell, Izumi braced herself for an overly exuberant response.

Instead, she got a soft "Hello".

 _Sasagawa_ Kyoko, she realized, looking down at the honey-colored eyes of that curious honey-haired girl a few days ago.

"Hello," she tried for a warm voice, "I'm Hibari Izumi, pleased to meet you."

"Hibari-san?" the girl repeated, before reacting in a way nobody had reacted to the surname before. She brightened, "Oh! What a pleasure it is to meet you! Thank you so much for what you've done for us!"

"I'll make sure Kyoya knows," Izumi demurred, "I'd like to speak to your parents?"

"Oh," and she was treated yet again to that blinking face, "Mother isn't in."

"And your father?"

"Oh! You must not have heard, he left a few months ago."

The cheerful tone was in direct contrast to the news.

The young woman narrowed her eyes and looked around, "Is your mother usually away?"

"Oh yes! She's always so busy," Kyoko replied merrily, "She goes overseas very often for work! That's why it's usually just me and my brother!"

Izumi bit her lip in consideration, "How long has she been doing that?"

"Oh, a few years now," the girl stated cheerfully, "Ryohei-nii told me that she started when I was three. She usually comes back every few months, though she's been gone for two years now."

Izumi allowed the silence to stretch in hopes that the girl would realize what she had just said. No such luck.

Huh.

"Does your brother fight very often?" She changed the subject abruptly, resisting the urge to shiver.

Kyoko's face was horrified, "Oh, no! He doesn't do that anymore! He only boxes now. Because he's the captain of the boxing club."

As if the way Sasagawa Ryohei 'boxed' was any less dangerous. And she obviously didn't know that the 'boxing club' only consisted of one member. It was an open secret in the whole school. It was actually why Sasagawa Ryohei was always clamoring for members—his 'club' was always at risk of being shut down. The only reason why it was kept open was because it was the one thing even Kyoya was unwilling to fight him over.

Huh.

"…Your father," she tilted her head, "Do you know why he left?"

The girl's face was delicately confused, just like a portrait, "He said he couldn't take it anymore. I don't understand what he meant."

Izumi pointed at the flowers, "He grew those, didn't he?"

"Yes…how did you know?" Kyoko blinked.

The older girl shook her head and turned away, "Never mind."

She went back home and, when Kyoya came back, hugged her son so tightly that he actually returned it.

xXXx

*Flower meanings (Japanese):

Primroses: Desperation

Tulips: One-sided Love.

White Camellia: Waiting

Yellow Camellia: Longing


	15. A Height Problem

Izumi brandished the tape measure threateningly at the fridge like a katana. Kyoya, being of sound mind and body, opted to take the safer option of standing aside and blending into the background as much as possible. He didn't even try to dodge the soft strap as it whipped around wildly in the air—even in her rage Izumi was deliberately calculating, and this wasn't so much rage as…something else that belonged on television.

Something dumb.

Not that he was dumb enough to say that to her.

After all, he was in agreement with her that he was a growing boy on the cusp of a growth spurt. Or in the midst of it. Definitely not the end of it.

He was still growing okay?

"This is WAR! WAR, damn you!" his guardian roared at the innocently empty electric appliance. It wasn't empty because they'd accidentally ran out of food—more like she'd purposefully emptied it of all the 'wrong' foods into a veritable banquet of dishes last night. Even he had to admit that his growing boy appetite had met its match in the face of so much food.

He'd had to do extra katas this morning because of the heaviness that'd carried over. (There was _absolutely_ no chance of a Hibari becoming chubby! None! That goes the same for Izumi! …Except when it's that time of the month and she needs chocolate.)

He didn't manage to hide his cringe when she whipped around to face him. Her face was almost dragon-like in indignation, "KYOYA!"

"Yes!" He…did not squeak. Barked more like. Yeah, he'd barked. Like a drill sergeant.

(Except in this case it was more like she was the drill sergeant and he the unruly private but. Semantics.)

"We are going to MAKE YOU GROW! TALLER!" She bellowed, still waving the tape measure in her hand. It snagged the end of his nose, leaving a red mark, but he wasn't going to flinch unless she'd poked him in the eye or something. Which she wouldn't.

(He and she knew she wouldn't. Even with the whole crazy lady…not-act. Was mom ever like that or was it from the non-Hibari side of Izumi's family?)

And then she released the lock on the tape smoothly, avoiding the sharp edge as it lashed backwards. (He was mildly impressed.) With a dramatic _clack,_ she placed it on the dining table and grabbed her handbag. (She'd complained about turning into a middle-aged housewife and stuck to her sling bag until it'd tore from the strain.) Then, she grabbed his hand.

Which, well. He was _thirteen years old._

"Stop scowling Kyoya. I'm not letting you run after another idiot gangster who can't follow the rules around here. We've already got people patrolling and he'll get caught. What _we_ need to do is _prioritize._ And that means _grocery shopping."_

He paused, wondering if she'd realized what she'd just said, but then sighed because she was right. As for the rest of it, he was going to do that 'discretion is a better part of valour' she'd taught him because even a Hibari needed to pick his battles.

(He's been doing that a lot lately.)

But when they reached the store and she started piling carton after carton of milk into the basket, he had to stop her. If he drank that much milk everyday he was going to turn into a cow and all the katas in the world would not be able to prevent the creation of a chubby Hibari. Which was an abomination that could not be allowed.

And then she had to go and get all _concerned_ over him. She turned with teary eyes, still clutching a carton in each hand, and _wailed,_ "But you're still _so short,_ Kyoyaaaa!"

Oh great, _the whole store was staring at them._ He groaned and manfully hid his face in his hands.

"Ah, Tojita-san?" The storeowner, Tanaka-san, fidgeted nervously to their right. She was a kindly old lady who used to run the store with her late husband. Her son was going to take over the business when she passed but for now, she enjoyed helping out and imparting her knowledge. She'd been around for a long time, since Kyoya's grandparents and was one of the few who remembered and _appreciated_ how Namimori was like under traditional Hibari rule.

(Even Kyoya couldn't deny that the way they were going about things was…different. They weren't as established at present, but the way Izumi was pulling strings it wouldn't be long. No, not long after all.)

"Yes?" his guardian spun around and smiled politely. She'd started interacting with the other residents more often and sometimes they'd come to her with tip-offs or information. It wasn't the way things were done before, according to Hiroto-san, but it was effective. People seemed to find her approachable enough after talking to her for a while.

Tanaka-san seemed to be nervous but amused as she waved a hand over their basket, "It's just that, from what I remember, Hibari-san doesn't have to worry about his height. Both late Hibari-san were tall, as were their parents, and late bloomers. He'll shoot up like a sprout around 17 years old, don't you worry." As she talked, she lost the nervous edge and started smiling more genuinely.

"Oh," Izumi pouted, shoulders drooping. Kyoya hid a sigh of relief. She looked at the cartons in her hands before returning them to the shelf, "Oh well. Alright then. Guess I can wait 4 more years."

Kyoya eyed her suspiciously as he emptied the basket. He gave Tanaka-san an appreciative nod and pulled his cousin away before she got other ideas.

xXXx

"What is this," he stared at his plate. He knew it was meat, but Izumi'd never cooked anything that wasn't in a traditional Japanese meal before. It'd always been rice and miso with fish and vegetables or sometimes pickles. It'd always been the same type of food Grandma had cooked.

(He hated Natto. Grandpa had loved it and eaten it every meal of the day but the first time he'd eaten it he'd turned blue in the face from choking. Natto was evil. Thankfully, Izumi agreed.)

"What did I say about saying a question instead of asking?" Izumi smiled sweetly from across the table. It wasn't a very large table, which meant she was smiling in his face and that. Wasn't very safe. He tried to locate her hands, but they were folded under the table and that meant that the harisen could make an appearance any moment.

(Sometimes mealtimes were like war meetings. Tensed and fraught with danger. He wondered if the shoguns of old ever choked on their rice because someone glared too hard.)

He scowled. "What is this…?" he repeated, trying to lift the end tone adequately. It came out sounding stupid, but it was enough. She told him she wouldn't fault him for failing, just not trying. He tried, but it always sounded dumb. He'd tried not saying _anything_ for a while, but she'd beaten him over the head with the stupid harisen even more, saying, "Use your words!" each time.

(He hadn't tried again. The blasted paper fan never seemed to leave her hand.)

"It's hamburger steak!" She beamed, "I've been cooking only traditional meals for so long but I did some research and western food is better for growing boys. That's why westerners are so tall, you know! But hamburger is not _all_ western, so I think you'll like it."

He picked up his fork with a shrug. So far Izumi had not made anything he _hated,_ so if she said he'd like it he probably would.

"Itadakimasu."

xXXx

"So what do you want for lunch today, Kyoya?"

"Hamburger steak."

" _Again?_ We've been eating it the whole week! You're going to get _fat_ Kyoya!"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"… _Fine._ But you're helping me sweep the gardens after this and I want you to start taking the daily morning shift on patrol. You're still too young for night shift—you need to go to school the next day after all—but if you want to eat so much steak you'll have to start getting up earlier, low blood or no."

"Agreed."

xXXx

"Kyoya? What's this I hear about you looming over the other freshmen students at the school gates every morning? I know you always reach school first but have you been sitting there like a komainu _everyday_ scaring all the poor kids? There are _prefects_ for that, you know?"

xXXx

"Oh good, you're prefect now. I'm so proud of you! Tetsu's been having some problems with Nami-chu students so I want you to take over the job and oversee them. Nami-koko's just next door so make sure you pop over to check as well. I've already notified the staff of both schools about your duties as head of the Discipline Committee."

"…Discipline Committee?"

"Yeah, the group I told Tetsu-kun to establish for me for you. It wouldn't have been enough authority if you hadn't become a prefect though. I'm so proud that you did it on your own merit without threatening anyone! I'll just inform the principal he can't take it back unless you've broken a rule… Make sure you don't get caught breaking rules by anyone we don't trust for at least a year."

"…"

"…What?"

"..."

"…Why are you staring at your hamburger steak like that? If that's your way of telling me to make you more you can give up now. You're already eating it for lunch every day. So help me, you _will_ get some variety in your diet!"

"… _tch."_


	16. Lace, Guns and Kimchi Prompt

Izumi posed in front of the mirror in her underwear, a dubious look on her face. She was wearing lace, which she normally didn't do, but this was a special occasion, and it would be worth the scratchiness.

Maybe.

She turned to her side, wondering why she had ever allowed Kimi to convince her to get something so _revealing._ She'd agreed to _lace,_ she'd even agreed to _lace that will peek through her shirt,_ but she was pretty sure she hadn't agreed to underwear that left half her ass hanging out. What was even the point in this? Nobody was going to see her ass if she could help it. It wasn't a thong, which—small mercies—but it was still uncomfortably scanty.

…Until Kyoya decided to come barging in.

There was that brief moment where she debated covering his eyes or knocking him out, but it came and went. Instead, she posed and gestured, "So?"

"…"

Yeah, she thought so.

xXXx

Kyoya felt like clawing his eyes out. It was the first time he had ever understood why people said that and honestly, he did not want to. Ever since the Talk, Izumi had been very understanding about his need for space and clearly drawn lines and this. Was. Over. The. Line.

Except it wasn't, because he felt like clawing his eyes out, but he also wanted to tell her that there was no way she'd be able to keep her gun in her garters like _that._ She'd been so excitedly chattering about it ever since that ridiculous movie about the spy came out, but if she so much as twitched, that handgun was going to fall off.

His guardian was very pretty and very well-formed, but she was also the one who chased him around the garden and tripped over her yukata.

It was just. Well.

Intellectually, it was indecent on the highest level. It was like stumbling across his _mother_ in her…lacy underwear and yes, he wants to claw his eyes out right now because his mother and lacy underwear are never going into another sentence together. Ever. Except that Izumi isn't _really_ his mother, even if she calls him her son and he sometimes obliges to call her okaa-san. She calls him cousin and brother and a number of irritating petnames anyway. Just as he calls her cousin and sister and _infuriating idiot._

So. Back to said idiot posing at him in her underwear. Which. What even.

It's…asset-enhancing, he supposes. It draws eyes to parts which are indecent, and…yeah. Why would she want that. It's not like she has anyone she likes…right?

"I'm going to kill them."

xXXx

"What? Wait. No. Kyoya, _Kyoya._ No killing anyone! There's no-one. Except Kimi but you can't kill her I'm not lesbian enough for that even if she looks good in an objective manner I suppose—no, _no put down that sword, there will be no gutting of my friends! NO! I mean it, Kyoya!"_

"…"

"…"

"Tetsu-kun. How long have you been standing there?"

THUMP.

xXXx

"I don't get it. It's just a club. I don't understand the attraction of coming into a crowded, overheated place with music that ruins your hearing and _ugh what is that smell._ I just. Can I go home now?"

"Kimi?"

"Kimi?"

"GODDAMN YOU BITCH YOU DITCHED ME!"

"I am _never_ going along with your ideas anymore. You have the _worst_ ideas and if—Kyoya. What are you doing here. And is that a _body_ behind you?! I thought I told you not to target people in places that will make it difficult to cover up!"

"Your bra is showing through your shirt."

"It's _supposed_ to."

"…"

"…Yeah, I want my yukata back. And a change of underwear. You cannot _believe_ how uncomfortable this bra is. I mean, I've never really found anything that fit really well, but this is top five, easily."

xXXx

"Kyoya. Why are all my underwear spread out on the ground? In fact, why is Tetsu-kun on the computer researching underwear? What is—military-grade underwear for women? Underwear for military women?"

"…"

"Are you buying me underwear? _Why_ are you buying me underwear? In fact, since when are you the one who buys things in this house? _I_ buy _you_ underwear. Don't look at me like that, you seriously think that all your clothes just replace themselves after fights? And you seriously think I'd allow Tetsu-kun to get creepy enough to know your sizes?"

"…What kind do you like best?"

"Edible ones."

THUMP.

xXXx

"Ojou-sama, why is Kyoya-sama asking me about sex toys?"

"Because you're the only male figure he respects. And I told to figure it out himself."

"Very well, I shall endeavour to give a proper reply. Incidentally, may I ask what foreign foods you are currently craving? The grocer mentioned you have been looking for something."

"Spicy kimchi. The authentic Korean kind. I watched a cooking show and…"

"I understand, I will speak to my contacts."

"Thank you! I didn't want to scare them too much—ever since I went clubbing with Kimi, none of them have been able to look me in the eye."

"Ahem. It will be my pleasure."

xXXx

"Here."

Izumi spooned kimchi into her mouth and sighed happily. She blinked at the package on the table.

It was wrapped completely in black paper, which was just typical of Kyoya.

"What's this?" She picked it up and shook it. It didn't make a sound. Huh.

"Just open it," he scowled, crossing his arms and glaring at her kimchi disdainfully.

" _Finneeee,"_ she ripped it open to reveal…underwear.

Edible underwear.

In a certain…flavour.

"…" She held it up wordlessly at her fidgeting brother. Speechless. She was speechless.

"Do you like it?" he asked earnestly. _Earnestly._

She checked the size.

Huh.

She licked it.

_Woah…_

xXXx

"I cannot believe you gave me spicy kimchi-flavoured edible underwear and I actually _liked it."_

"…"

"I cannot believe I am not embarrassed. Or am I beyond it now? Should I ask myself where I went wrong?"

"…"

"I cannot believe _you asked Hiroto what edible underwear was for, oh my god, I am so sorry I missed that I should have rigged his place with cameras."_

"…"

"And thanks for the other custom-made, _inedible_ underwear. Very comfortable, and you can't even see my gun. I can _actually_ make 'gun in my pants' jokes to the Varia now."

"…Hn."

xXXx

Omake

"Squalo, ask me about the gun in my pants."

"VOIIII WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF REQUEST IS THAT?!"

"Just _ask me the question."_

"…No."

Lussuria pranced into the room, "Honey! Is that a gun in your pants or—BANG!"

"HAH! I KNEW IT!"

"Eh…I got to shoot someone. I'm satisfied."

"What the fuck are you doing here, trash?!"

"XANXUS! ASK ME ABOUT MMMGGRUNNMRRPPEZZZ…"

"VOIIIIIIIIIII! SHUT THE FUCK UP! BOSS IGNORE HER!"


	17. The Lady (and Her army)

It doesn't happen smoothly or all at once. There's resistance to this radical new idea, but like most ideas, it is incredibly infectious. Or perhaps it is just this idea, this single, enduring…thing.

But ideas have power of their own.

xXXx

The Lady is a beautiful sight in battle, yes she is. She becomes even more alluring as the fight continues. It's different when you're not on the receiving end of that power, when you're standing at the side and tilting your head and suddenly there's a kind of future in front of your eyes. Where you're behind Her and she's leading the charge, when your life is on those deceptively slender shoulders.

When you _mean something._

It's not pretty, this future. Not rosy in the way you've lost a long, long time ago. She will take your lives and use them to whatever purpose she deems necessary and you may be just this one, tiny piece in her plan but.

But.

_Oh, to be one of hers._

It's tempting. It's impossible. It's something you don't quite understand—she's using you just like any other high-and-mighty scumbag and yet you're starting to think that to die for her would not be such a bad thing after all. It's a step in a direction you never thought you'd take and how did you even come to this path?

You blink furiously, shaking your head but the image remains in your mind's eye.

It's ridiculous, you chide yourself. The only person you can rely on is yourself, the only thing you should care about is your life, and you're thinking about throwing it all away for this slip of a girl's promise that you _know_ would end up with you being one of those devoted dogs you've always spat at.

Devotion. _Pah._

 _Pah!_ You spit again for good measure. It lands with a satisfying splat on the asphalt floor.

You roar and run at her, fists flailing. You never did learn proper fighting. But you're going to bring her down from her high-and-mighty throne and that's that.

(It doesn't matter that you _know_ it'll just end up with you under her heel again. Or that each time you think she's lovelier than ever and that it fits that no man should ever, _ever_ be able to touch her.)

xXXx

As the 'rehabilitation' continues, Hiroto feels his heart soar with each fallen thug.

Man. Boy. It doesn't matter. All fall in the face of Izumi-ojou-sama's resolve and he can almost imagine the glorious blaze that would personify it. It sends shivers down his spine and he wants to exult, to _celebrate._

(A festival of blood)

Instead, he just permits the tiniest smile of approval, even though he knows Ojou-sama has no need for his approval anymore. Does not feel the need to constantly seek his guidance. He smiles, the edges dark and sharp but small. Only the barest glint of metal.

(Oh how lovely it would be if she danced in the midst of red blossoms)

Her style refines itself, and yet it shows her lack of formal training. She's a fast, lithe bolt of lightning. She's an undulating serpent. Their fists cannot cross that tiny, inch-wide gap no matter how they swing.

His fingers itch to put that last touch of elegance in it, but it's stunning in it's own way. It becomes her nature—that despite how she has started wearing more costumes, she is still that wild girl at heart.

It's unbelievably precious, because she has started to adapt to the Underworld in her own way and that means wearing one outfit or the other. The cool-eyed beauty with guns at her hip, dressed in easy-to-move-in clothes or army fatigues. The gentle but firm Young Lady from the Hibari family, resplendent in traditional clothes.

There will be more, he knows. More faces and masks she will collect and mould. The next one, he guesses, will be the iron-fist-in-velvet-glove Boss Lady. She will lead an army through every street in Namimori and scour it of any other influence. She will _rule_ the little town and, he suspects, they will love her for it.

He hides his widening smile. It is so like a Hibari to build the village (and army) needed to raise her child.

xXXx

One by one, they fall her to her charms. He doesn't understand how she is succeeding in fooling everyone and brainwashing them by just beating their heads in. He doesn't _understand_ how they're actually _falling for this bullshit._

She's just another one of those people who would use him and throw him away. Like _hell_ he's gonna just fall over his feet to lick her boots.

Why can't they _see it?!_

How can she just—

How can they just—

He's given up on _trusting_ already. All that soft crap about friendship and family and _fuck all that crap._ There's only money and power and the mean existence he's carved out for himself since he left his crap home.

There's _pain_ and _enduring_ and there's _lies_ and _enduring._ That's it. That's all there is. All that pretty coloured dressing was just the shiny enticement that would reel them in and stab them in the throat.

_Literally._

xXXx

It's The Lady.

It's _The Lady._

A quiet hush falls over the courtyard as She walks in. And they find themselves fidgeting under that gaze. Should they salute? They should bow. They should do _something_ to greet her.

" _I'M NOT GETTING ON MY KNEES FOR SOME DUMB CHICK WITH A BIG STICK! I DUNNO WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO EVERYONE ELSE, BUT I'M NOT FUCKING BUYING IT!"_

She pauses. Runs a hand down her hip where the gun glimmers from the purple holster. Takes it out. Cocks it 30 degrees to the left.

"You know what?" She says gently, "I'm running late. I don't have any more time for you."

xXXx

When Ojou-sama passes by Hiroto, he returns her serene smile. Nami Juvie was set up by the Hibari. Nami Juvie was _(is)_ run by the Hibari.

The people in it?

_Already belong to them._

"Good shot," he states as he opens up an umbrella for the both of them. She had protested a few times but allowed it when he said it reminded him of past memories.

(Hibari-sama. He will carry their umbrellas for as long as he lived.)

"Shin will be pleased," he continues, matching her footsteps as they continued down the street. He watches her idly pat the holster covered by her jacket. The purple belt looks like a fashion statement against her pastel blouse.

She smiles in reply, a small quirk of her lips.

They round the corner and it widens as she walks towards the open gates.

"Kyoya~" "Izumi!"

xXXx

They take care of the dissenters before she returns again. She said she has no more time.

They won't let her wait any longer.

 _They_ won't wait any longer.


	18. Meeting Pineapple(s)

"...And that pineapple defeated me with a trick."

Izumi blinked as Kyoya finally wound down from his long-ass rant about some boy who had beat him in a fight. She didn't understand why this one merited a fruit (how was a plant on a higher ranking than any other herbivorous animal?) name, but eh, she wasn't going to prompt another spiel of vicious vows and sworn vengeance.

"That's very nice, Kyoya," she smiled and passed him an onigiri. Those were from the owner of the specialty shop down the streets in thanks for giving him more time to pay his rent. (Inclusive of protection fees, insurance (36 month installment plan with a 100% claim guarantee from the first payment backed up by her boys), and utilities)

Her little idiot absently took it and bit into the little plum centre. He twitched a little at the sourness (it was a good twitch) and chewed slower (he likes it). While his cakehole was occupied, Izumi busied herself with some accounts and discrepancies from that fishing business that was getting a few complaints. She shuffled some forms and then picked up a report. Huh. New guy, slightly rich business owner, some ties with a low-level underboss of the Yamaguchi-gumi. Lousy business ethics and even lower standards, but nothing outright illegal.

...

She sighed and picked up her work phone. Beside her, Kyoya quietly chewed another onigiri, reading the report upside down.

"Takushi-kun? Hai, yes, remember that man you looked up for me? Yes. Eto...yes. Can you tell Kyu for me? And deliver a formal warning for escalating a needless issue. Yes. You can reword it for me as long as it gets understood. I don't want this to happen again, yes? I know you recommended him so I would really like to give him a chance, but you know my policy. Yes. I know he was previously in the force but-Takushi-kun. Takushi-kun. You're interrupting me."

Kyoya snorted at that, a small glint of glee in his eyes. He decided not to look for the idiot until Izumi was done evicerating him. She _hated_ being interrupted. She rarely got physically violent nowadays, but she had become _excellent_ at ruining lives without touching a person. Tetsu had done a survey and Izumi was the number one undisputed subject of fear and adoration in Namimori. Kyoya ranked sixteen.

He scowled, rolling his eyes. _Whatever._

"...Momo-kun. Is he dead yet?" He turned back to Izumi, who had not actually hung up on the previous call. She was still talking to the same phone number, but obviously an enforcer had been onsite or reached the site to give 'Takushi' a lesson of manners.

"No, no, you don't need to do that yet. Just send him home. And tell the chief comissioner that I appreciate his interest but he really needs to train his boys better...yes, you can reword it."

She put the phone down with a sigh and pushed the stack of papers on the desk towards him, "Help me shred all this will you?"

With a put upon sigh, Kyoya reached over and dumped the mass into the industrial shredder in the corner, letting it do its work and eat up half a tree. This recycling shtick was really boring, but if it saved more sakura trees...oh wait.

"Oh man," Izumi sighs when she sees the expression on his face. _Here we go again..._

xXXx

"No."

"But I"

"No."

"He's right _there"_

"Kyoya if you make me repeat myself one more time..."

"He's in our territory!"

"..."

"And not paying rent!"

"..."

"..."

"...you're not fooling me, but _fine._ "

As Kyoya raced towards the idiot pineapple with murderous anticipation, he did a subtle fist pump.

xXXx

He was not so happy when he had to get home with a shredded shoulder. Izumi looked at the sluggishly bleeding wound and _frowned._

_Crap._

xXXx

"So _this_ is the Lady Izumi that I've been hearing so much about around here. I was wondering why it was so difficult getting any help in Namimori. Brainwashing doesn't really work on already-brainwashed fools."

"...Pineapple. Oh."

"I was wondering, you see, if the _infallible Hibari Kyoya_ had a...weakness. And now I've finally-oof!"

"..."

"You just SHOT me!"

BANG.

"You just shot me AGAIN."

"And you're still alive. I need to kill you properly. If I break your body will you die? Or do I need to get metaphysical? Can I burn out your soul?"

"You're a sky flame, that was...not in my calculations."

"...Kid. I don't care how many life cycles you've been through. How many hells you've seen. I've read that fucking book and you obviously didn't fucking grow up at all. So I'm either going to sow or reap some good Karma by putting you down _or_ you can take the chance to kneel at my feet and kiss them. Before I kill your twin from another bitch and skin the other two alive. And deep-fry them."

He twitched, "They mean _nothing_ to me." He brandished his trident, "If you think that you are qualified to threaten me, _Lady_ Izumi, you do not know the terrors of the mafia world."

"I'm starting with the girl, okay? She has no organs so I've got no bowels to disembowel, but I'll give the good ol' college try anyway. Might find something inside I can sell."

"Wha-wait!"

Mukuro stuttered as Izumi breezed past him while pulling out a bundle from her coat pocket. It tinkled as she unpacked it. He'd realized halfway through the act of getting into a spearing stance that he'd been bodily constricted with something(cloud flames...Hibari-kun? _Tojita Izumi?)_ and couldn't turn around to watch what was happening.

"O-oi! Don't look down on us! Mukuro-sama will kill you!"

BANG.

"K-uh, shit. Kakipi got hit! Fuck, woman you hit his lung!"

A gurgling sound.

"I don't understand how you've gone through so much shit but can't believe that I'm honestly going to kill you. Tsunayoshi is the exception, not the rule. I play nice, but I'm _not_ nice. You know the mafia world, I _am_ part of it."

His blood went cold.

"YOU STAY AWAY FROM HER YOU BITCH! DON'T, DON'T TOUCH HER. CHROME RUN AWAY YOU STUPID IDIOT!"

He felt his breath stop.

"GET AWAY GETAWAYGETAWAY, CHROME WHY ARE YOU JUST STANDING-OHGOD STOP IT YOU BITCH STOP IT SHE'LL DIE STOPITSTOPITSTOPIT MUKURO-SAMA!"

"DON'T TOUCH HER," Mukuro bellowed at the top of his frozen-ohgod-lungs. He sounded hysterical, but he didn't care right now for his image or presence. Chrome was being _killed_ by a bloodthirsty woman and he couldn't _hear her what was happening to her._ Chikusa had been shot in the _lung_ and Ken was obviously being restrained. His entire team had been torn to pieces in an instant.

"You think that this is a movie? I know mist-users, Mukuro, and I'm still continuing." A sharp gasp from Chrome. That was all he could hear. _That was all he could hear._

"Nostop," he gasped as well, "I'll kneel, I'll kiss your feet. Stop it. Please. I'm begging you." He felt his knees quiver. Fuck. How did things spiral out of his control so quickly? Hibari had been outwardly fierce but was actually soft. How could he have known that his guardian was actually a masked monster?

"Mukuro-sama," Ken's strangled voice came out. Was he hurt too? _What was happening?_

He waited for her response, feeling cold sweat trickle down his brow.

"...well. Let's try this one more time, then."

The click-clack of her footsteps were clear against the concrete ground as she made her way back in front of him. He twisted his neck to see and there was a small scalpel with blood in her hand. Chrome was abnormally quiet against his mind. He couldn't reach her, like they were out of sync and this was the _first time_ he knew someone not a Mist attribute could interfere with it and _how._

The gun was in her left. She'd switched hands when she'd walked over to Chrome. He caught a smell of gunpowder as she passed him and felt like retching because Chikusa's _lung._

She's tranquil as she positions herself in front of him again, Chrome's blood dripping onto the floor beside her, "From what I understand, you've died...five times? Nine? Well it doesn't matter. I haven't died that many times," she shrugged blithely, "but I've killed in many different ways. Definitely more than fifteen. I'm not that great at torture, really. I can't really keep a person alive for very long. They don't really suffer as much as I'm trying to make them. But I've picked up some tricks. And if I want someone in Namimori to die. They do."

They're taking too much time, Chikusa might drown in his own blood. Chrome might...Mukuro shudders and looks away from the bloody scalpel. It's a simple thing, but he knows Chrome has nightmares sometimes about her stay in that unfeeling hospital alone.

And Izumi spins the scalpel in her hand, puts it to her thumb, and slices it. Just a little. A line of fresh blood trickles down the wet edge, the smell of copper hitting his nose and as he watched her dab at it with her sleeve, he felt his own face pale.

He feels the Plan shatter. Because it's _real._

"One thing I've realized from illusionists," she smiles, "is that they're not that good at dealing with reality. You show them a planned scene, they see through it. You show them some sort of trick and they see through it. Because they always suspect that it's an illusion. They don't think it's real until you give them irrefutable proof. They play with flash and sound and touch so much they stop taking things at face value. Until you convince them it's real and you are _really_ going to do as you say, they're not going to give up." She remarks idly, "I guess it's some kind of coping mechanism."

"Stop delaying," he not-quite snaps, pulling at his restraints and he has never hated not being physically empowered as much as he does now, "I said I'll do it. Just _save them."_ He hates how his voice breaks at the end. How his weakness is exposed to the cold eye of this woman. How she sees through so much and too much and he curses Tsunayoshi suddenly. Except it was never really the boy. He had saved Ken and Chikusa and Chrome all on his own. He had picked them to use them, the best pawns, yes, but he hadn't thrown them away when he was done.

 _But I'm not done._ He said. _It's not done, I've not conquered Tsunayoshi-kun. I still have use for them yet. I can still use them. And they're such good pawns. Such good pieces..._

_(I want them and they're_ _**mine** _ _and I'll never let them go)_

"You don't have to worry overmuch that they'll die before we're through. I know that they're my leverage. Stop worrying." She flicks blood from the scalpel nonchalantly.

"You. You _just said_ you can't keep people alive-"

She waves the gun in annoyance, "Not me. You really didn't believe that I'd approach a known threat like you and yours _alone,_ did you? Gosh that sounds so stupid I can only give the stereotypical villain answer."

He stiffens, because he had indeed and he hadn't sensed anyone _how did she..._

"In any case," she snaps her fingers and the restraints loosen, "You've got something to do. Chop chop." She tilts her heeled foot forward and shakes it.

He slides smoothly to one knee, but his head snaps up, eyes meeting hers and there's the start of a number and lotuses blooming and...

A chill goes down his spine and he bows his head back down, because her eyes are cold and knowing and expectant and _damndamndamn_ his plans within plans within plans are no match for her resources and ruthlessness. She dies, he dies, Chrome and the rest die. And she might not even _die._

He blinks away more beads of sweat as he cranes his neck towards her foot. This is the first time in all his six lives that he was reduced to such a state by another person. He'd been a war lord, a murderer, an assassin, and so many other blood-covered roads. He'd been _unbending_ but now it was all broken under the...Louboutins of this woman. Well, she had good taste.

He pressed his lips to the tip of the shoe and repressed the urge to wipe them with sanitizer.

He didn't bother pressing about his...helpers again. She'd agreed to allow them to live if he did as she demanded and she would do it. Because it was an easy thing for her to allow. He would have his revenge...later. Much later.

"Very good. Now. Let's talk."

xXXx

"Izumi."

She flipped a page.

"Izumi."

She sipped her tea.

_"Izumi, what did you do the pineapple he's avoiding me."_

She dabbed at her lips daintily.

_"Tetsu turned white when I asked him. And nearly vomited."_

"..."

_"The hospital records show that his entire crowd was there for three different day surgeries."_

"..."

_" **Mother** , what did you do?"_

Finally, a reaction. She snorted, "You only ever call me that when you want something. Is your fruity boytoy that important to you?"

"...I will inform you the next time I leave home for longer than a day."

She smiled gently, eyes focused on her book.

"..I will...inform you whenever I enter a fight with a...difficult...opponent."

She looked up and deadpanned, "Now you're getting it."

xXXx

Ken shuddered as he nibbled on the daily bento the Lady Izumi had arranged to be delivered to them. She was _insane_ in the coldest, dangerous way and even his animalistic instincts had whimpered and given up the ghost when she had turned that... _thing_ in her on him. She was _worse_ than nursing mothers.

He hadn't dared to look Mukuro-sama in the eye after what happened. Chikusa had been fortunate enough to be unconscious, and Chrome had 'erased' it from her memory. Freaking illusions.

Mukuro-sama was smiling blankly, hunched over his own meal. It was half-finished, which proved just how hungry he'd been the past few days.

(All of them hadn't been eating exactly a lot for a while.)

xXXx

"It's not that I want to fight Kyoya's battles for him. That's not the Hibari way," the Demoness laughed softly as she sipped tea. They were inside an exclusive teahouse obviously owned by the aforementioned family.

She was all elegance and grace as she shrugged ruefully, "But when it comes to people who want to use him...I have to interfere." The depths of her eyes were brimming with deadly intent as she chuckled, "If you had just wanted to fight Hibari Kyoya, I wouldn't really mind it...but you've been using him to cover some of your business and that's different. You're _not_ schoolboy level and your group is _not_ a middle school gang."

Her eyes cut to the subdued Chrome, "One of you is maybe innocent enough, but the rest of you are dyed in blood. You _know_ the Underworld rules. You _know_ Namimori has a Ruling Family. You did _not_ pay your respects to me. You did _not_ request help from my people. You found my heir and decided he was easy enough to run circles around and lead by the nose to do your dirty business without payment."

Mukuro felt himself going colder and colder as Hibari Izumi laid out his actions one by one.

"Kid," she gestured, with her free hand, "You can talk all you want about destroying the Mafia World. But until it's destroyed, until you have the strength for that, you answer to every single one of its laws."

"So you wiped one Family," she flapped her hand, "Big deal. I won't make a fuss that you used someone else to do it, or that he was the strongest person in that Family, and they were basically off guard because he was one of their own. Estraneo's still around. On multiple blacklists after their experimentation was exposed, but still around."

She huffed in exasperation, "One middle-sized family and you think you can bring down an entire world? I think you're still in the Dark Ages."

(He had been there, yes. He had been _invincible_ then.)

"You don't even understand the scope of a giant like Vongola. You can't even deal with _me."_

"Get to the point," he huffed defensively, feeling his shoulders hunch. So he was a little short on resources. He had _plans_ to fix that.

"I could have you flayed for that," the Demoness told him idly, "I don't understand why so many Families have let you live for so long. You don't even have a backer. You're basically free game. I could pack you off to the Estraneo and get the bounty easy."

"But you _won't,"_ he stressed, stiffening as memories invaded his mind.

She didn't really answer the implied question, "Kyoya likes fighting with you. He needs a good training partner anyway. And Reborn-san has plans."

The last word was pointed. As if comparing his plans with the Arcobaleno's. He scowled.

She sighed, "You are such a clueless chick. Everyone says Mist-users are oh-so crafty and shit, but all the so-called 'strongest' Mist-users are...I can't even. You're just all over the place and full of insecurities and false bravado."

(Owch. Oooh, the _burn._ )

"If you're going to treat me like a _child,"_ he sneered, _I will destroy you and laugh over your idealism._

(...uh huh. Sure.)

"I am going to put you under my authority until you either get strong or smart enough," she sighed dispiritedly, like it was a bother, "I will take hostage of your entire group's lives." She made another gesture, and a seed of Sky-Cloud Flame burrowed into their bodies. He hadn't even _moved._

"When did you...?!"

"You realized you kissed my foot, right? It's still contact." She gave them all another once-over, "Well, you should know what will happen if you start misusing my people. Stop trying to stir shit, do your own shit, ask for permission if you need things covered or disposed, and pay the appropriate fee. If you have no money, you will owe favours. If I call those in, you pay them. Don't worry, those go to me only, not Kyoya. I have a reputation of fairness to uphold. And I'll take entertaining him as rental too."

He touched his chest where the invading Flame was glowing slightly warmly and warningly.

(You poked the sleeping dragon~~~)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...people asked me about Izumi and Mukuro's meeting. Which. Well. AHemhemhem.
> 
> I dunno if it was ever possible that Izumi wouldn't be Mukuro's enemy. Hello, that's her son he beat up! He ended up in the hospital. He's not had to go there for injuries in years.
> 
> And well, as I continued to write, I realized (maybe because of how kiddy KHR is) that Mukuro really isn't as awesome as he keeps claiming. Because all that 'possess you~~' and 'I'm a genius manipulator who manipulates' is just not showing through. I'm so disillusioned (pun intended).
> 
> My idea of his 'six lives' is actually that it's all false. I mean, maybe he believes it, but it's not the point. There's a difference between having memories and actually going through things. I think Mukuro was fucked in the head by Estraneo and ended up chock full of memories that were not his making him utterly confused. Or maybe they really are his past lives, but honestly, it doesn't matter. Because he doesn't really give me the impression of an adult. Like, he's all lying and scheming but it's more like a little genius kid who's smart and knows his smart but overreached that intelligence. Izumi here has been playing the real mafia game. She's been doing business, interacting with the higher-ups, schmoozing and boozing and even upturning families left and right. Maybe Mukuro has experience, but it's really not manager-level. It's like how Izumi can see the big picture and manage an entire Family, while Mukuro can barely take care of 3 kids and his own hide.
> 
> He put his name on the Vindice's list just to take out one 'Northern Italy Family' of no specific size. He ended up on the run from the world he insists he will destroy and when the Vindice came he could do nothing about it. So where is this 'planning' and 'genius manipulator' everyone keeps talking about? He's like a little kid who had trauma and decided to retaliate against the government but ended up just flinging his handful of homemade bombs before getting arrested. Or okay, maybe he did one better by planting them in 'strategic locations' to kill the most people in a school or something. But is that the entire world? Uh, no.
> 
> Izumi would really like to just get rid of this nuisance harassing her daily operations and opening up holes in her nice town roads. (She just got the mayor the pay for the paving) She would also like to just wrap up the kid and give Kyoya his 'pineapple' but Kyoya'd sulk about never letting him do his own thing. (I still dunno if Kyoya is pulling pigtails or just found a fun sandbag...probably the latter.)
> 
> So...yeah. I didn't write much about Chrome here, but Izumi will later bring her out for shopping like a cliche 'take under her wing' thing, but she'll be terrified at the lady who ran her through with a scalpel and is now smiling over pretty and comfortable bras. Izumi will laugh because she's a sadist and not even care that in...10 or so years time this group of kids might come back and bite her. Because she's hardcore and dealt with bigger shit than that.
> 
> TYL!Izumi has a running joke with TYL!Mukuro in that he'll never be free from under her thumb because he still can't get the Sky-Cloud bomb out of his heart. When she dies, he is 'freed' and has a mini-freakout in Vindice (lol the irony of being under control twice over) because WTF is Byakuran he beat this devil lady! Ahem. And yay he's free but now he can't access Hibari resources. Oh, and his completely clueless 'rival' (Izumi didn't tell him about the flame bomb) is moping in denial. And okay, he's kind of worried because he finally admits he can't plan as well as Izumi. And Chrome got a little attached to the lady who took over teaching her female things. (Chrome, you should know better than that...who's the master manipulator now?) Ken is like YAY...does that mean we'll stop getting food from her? And Chikusa is...yeah, we also can't go over for Christmas or New Year anymore...awww...
> 
> Basically Mukuro doesn't even realize that Izumi's completely turned all his friends (they're not friends! coughcough) with presents. She Mom-ed all of them because they're all actually insecure and needy and blahblah psychological stuff. I mean, c'mon, even you readers basically forgot she was going to kill them for real at one point in this chapter because that's what happens to Tsuna all the time, right?
> 
> XDDDDD (MINDFUCK)
> 
> Memory25~
> 
> P.S
> 
> I hope you noticed that this was basically a more refined version of how she dealt with the Nami-Juvie people. Like. She literally beat them up, threatened their lives, and then took them in. Lol.


End file.
